


His Enemy’s Fall

by Elfflame



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Draco, Community: ownficfest, Dark fic, Dark!Harry, M/M, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-09
Updated: 2009-11-09
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfflame/pseuds/Elfflame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry finds himself getting closer to the Malfoys as his world begins to fall apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story turned out to be far more massive than I expected, but I managed it, despite frustration and flu. Huge thank you to Ceria_taliesin for hand-holding and a great beta-job, even if we didn’t agree on the end-game. And to Nyx_noir and Kabal for their hand-holding as well. Title comes from a Jewish Proverb: “Rejoice not at thine enemy's fall - but don't rush to pick him up either.” My contribution to the Ownficfest.

Kingsley’s retirement party was well underway when Harry and Ginny arrived. They’d had an argument about whether or not they should come. Ginny hadn’t wanted to attend when she’d learned that Draco and Blaise were going to be in attendance. She disapproved of the friendship Harry had with them, and Harry hated what her jealousy implied. It wasn’t like that.

He’d put an end to the argument by telling her that he had to make an appearance—Kingsley was expecting him. She could stay behind, but he was going, and that was that. Ginny had fumed, but pulled on her wrap.

“Fine. We can make an appearance. But then we’re leaving.”

“You can leave if you want, but I’m staying. He’s been the best Minister we’ve had in generations. You know that.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be there for every second of his time as Minister,” she huffed.

“He’s my friend. I want him to know I wish him well, Ginny. Is that so hard to understand?” He flexed his suddenly itchy fingers before pulling on his jacket. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Could we just _not_ do this tonight, Ginny? Please?”

“Fine.” Ginny grabbed her purse, then Apparated to the Ministry, still glaring at him.

The rows they’d had over the last five years since the end of the war had been escalating. Nowadays, it seemed like any little thing was likely to set Ginny off. Whether or not something meant anything to Harry, if she didn’t like it, it was apparently the end of the world. Frankly, Harry was getting fed up with her trying to control him.

Harry took another deep breath before following her. He might care for her, but really, her attitude was grating on his nerves more and more.

When he appeared, she was already off in a corner, whispering in the ear of a girl Harry recognized as one of her teammates, who glowered at him when she saw him watching. He turned away, then went to find Kingsley. Let her fill their ears with her complaints. He wasn’t going to let her ruin his good time. Before he even took two steps, Draco was at his side.

“I was worried you wouldn’t make it in time. Ginevra looks angry. Did you fight again?”

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled when Draco offered him a glass. “When do we not? She didn’t want to come. To Kingsley’s retirement party! Like I could miss this even if I wanted to! I swear, she’s only getting more and more demanding as she grows older…” He sighed, sipping at the sweet wine, letting the alcohol relax him. “Some days…”

“I know you love her, Harry, but honestly, I’d never let a girl I was with nag me as much as she does you…”

Harry snorted. “Like you’d care what a girl thought, Draco. After all, that’s not where your real interest lies, is it?”

Draco shrugged, but smirked, not bothering to deny it. “I’ll have to marry someday. I do need an heir, after all…”

“Somehow I don’t see you marrying a woman like your mother, though…”

At one time, the possible insult would have had Draco bristling. Now it was taken for the complement Harry had meant it as. “And why not? My mother’s a lovely woman.”

“Better than mine,” Blaise said as he approached, smiling widely. “Harry. It’s good to see you. I think the Minister was looking for you earlier…”

Harry scowled. Damn Ginny for making him late, anyway. “What did he need? Do you know where he is?”

“Harry,” Draco said softly, placing his hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m sure it’s not the end of the world. He probably just wanted you to pose for pictures with him.”

Blaise nodded. “Yes. I’m sure he would understand you not wanting to pose with him…”

“I would have.” In fact, Kingsley was the first Minister he’d met where he would have, and in fact had, endorsed him to the public. He’d joined Kingsley at many public and political gatherings, adding his title of “Chosen One” and “Slayer of Voldemort” to whatever cause Kingsley was trying to get passed or get to the public’s attention.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities later, Harry,” Draco said softly. “It’s nothing to get upset over…”

Perhaps not, but after the fight with Ginny, it was hard to calm himself. Especially hearing that the Minister had asked after him. “Perhaps I need another drink,” he muttered.

“Or perhaps some fresh air?” Draco suggested.

Harry nodded slowly. “Perhaps that would help. Thanks, Draco. Sometimes I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

“Harry!” Hermione appeared, smiling a bit plastically, tugging at Ron’s arm. Ron looked like he’d rather eat broken glass than anywhere near Draco. “How are you?”

Harry managed a smile. They were still his best friends, despite disagreements, after all. “Hey, Hermione. Ron.”

Ron nodded woodenly. “Hey, mate.” He glanced at Draco, then Blaise, then back to Harry. “I think Kingsley’s looking for you.”

“Yeah, Blaise said as much. Did he say what he wanted?” Harry wasn’t about to mention why he’d been late to the party. Saying he’d been fighting with Ginny would only provoke Ron into another tirade about the evils of hanging out with Malfoy, and Harry couldn’t deal with that right now. He still needed to cool off from fighting with Ginny, not start a new fight with his best friend.

“Nah. Just wondered if you were coming, I think… Maybe we should go find him, eh?” he suggested with a smile Harry recognized as Ron trying to finesse him. He was crap at it. Obviously his real intent was to get him away from the ‘Slytherin gits’ he hated so much.

“I’m sure I’ll see him, Ron. Draco and Blaise and I were just going to go get some air. Did you want to come with us?”

Ron looked horrified at the prospect. “Maybe just the two of us?” he suggested.

“Actually, Harry, I need to go talk to someone. Maybe if it were just the three of you, your friend Weasley here would bee more comfortable?”

“You don’t have to, Blaise…”

“It’s all right, Harry. I’ll see the two of you later in the evening.” He turned to Draco and kissed his cheek. “See you later.”

Draco nodded, then smirked at Ron as Blaise moved away. Ron was looking disgusted. “Something wrong, Weasley?”

“Do you have to do that sort of thing in public, Malfoy? Or were you putting on a show for us?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, Weasley.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Look. I wanted to talk to Draco, Ron. Just…shut it. Do you want to come with us, or not?”

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione gave him a warning look, and he deflated. “Maybe later, Harry?” he suggested instead.

Harry nodded, grateful that he wouldn’t have to keep the two from killing one another. “All right. See you shortly Ron. Hermione." He turned to Draco. “Come on.”

Draco smirked as he nodded, but it was only a small one, so Harry let it pass. This was another annoyance in his life. That his old friends so hated him spending time with his new friends. Even Hermione, who tried to pretend like she understood, used every opportunity they spent alone warning him of spending too much time with them.

~ * ~

Walking next to Harry, Draco could tell when the cool air began to help. He knew he was still walking a fine line with Harry, despite the fact that he and Blaise had managed to break past many of his defenses. The wrong word could undo everything they’d managed to accomplish so far, and that was something he couldn’t let happen. So instead, he watched as Harry relaxed, and waited for him to start talking once more rather than babbling at him and chancing his temper. He’d seen the look on his face when he and Ginny had arrived. He certainly wasn’t envying her once they got home tonight.

Finally Harry turned to look at Draco. “How are your parents?” Draco knew that Harry still didn’t like Lucius much, but he and Narcissa got on quite well these days.

“Father is the same. Mother said to give you a kiss.” Draco smirked. “Should I?”

Harry smiled, and Draco found he missed the blush he’d gotten so often from Harry when he used to tease this way. These days, he was used to Draco’s teasing. It was too bad he no longer took it seriously, though. If he’d asked, Draco would have given him almost anything. But he also knew that unless Harry said yes, he’d never dare it. Not at this stage, with Ginny still in the picture. It was just too dangerous, and might undo everything. So instead, he watched as Harry laughed softly, his heart tightening a bit at how easily Harry could laugh it off. “Consider it given, Draco,” he said with a grin.

To hide his hurt, Draco played it up, mock-pouting, which only made Harry grin more. Then he did his best to shift the conversation away from their lovelife-that-wasn’t. “And how is work?”

“Same as usual. Nothing as exciting as I always expected being an Auror would be, but it passes the time.”

“I don’t know why you bother, then. You could have your choice of careers. Hell, you have enough money never to work again, Harry. I never did understand it.”

Harry shrugged. “I just…I don’t know. It felt _right_ , that’s all.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know.” Harry turned and leaned on the railing looking out over the garden. “I don’t know what I want,” he said softly.

Draco put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Maybe you should start to think about it, at least? I mean, with Kingsley gone, who knows what the Ministry will be like.”

Harry nodded. “True. But…I have to at least give the new Minister a chance, right?” Mafalda Hopkirk had been made new Minister for Magic only a month after Kingsley had announced he would retire at the end of the year. She was being heralded as the beginning of a new era. Draco couldn’t help but wonder what Kingsley thought of that. He was fairly certain Harry wasn’t pleased with the claim.

As if in response to the thought, Harry frowned. “I don’t know. Do you?” Draco would have liked to hear him say no, but it would be far better if they let the new Minister trip herself up all on her own. Then Harry would come to them instead of being forced.

“Yeah.” Harry didn’t really sound too sure, though. “I have to until she proves me wrong, at least…” More like right, but Draco wasn’t about to say that.

He squeezed Harry’s shoulder instead. He’d have to talk to his father about the fact that Harry was already beginning to doubt his place in the Ministry. But for now… “Why don’t we go back in and see if we can find Shacklebolt?”

Harry nodded, then turned and headed back towards the party, Draco following closely behind.

~ * ~

Within weeks, Harry was ready to take a Muggle plane to Barbados to drag Kingsley back to England and force him by wand-point to take the Minister’s office once more.

Minister Hopkirk wasn’t of the same stripe as Fudge. She was well-spoken and charismatic, and the people adored her.

To Harry, though, she was worse. Fudge had clung to power because he’d gotten used to having it. She had obviously been looking forward to having the office, and wasn’t about to let anyone take it from her. And between the decrees she passed down about how to deal with the unwanted of society, and the way she used the press to convince the Wizarding World she was doing the right thing, Harry was certain that the old pureblood prejudices would soon pale in comparison.

She had set up hearings for non-human creatures with near human intelligence, officially to determine how best to integrate them into society, but Harry had only been at two of the hearings before he’d had to be officially excused. What he’d seen had turned his stomach. The Minister spent the entire time finding ways to twist the poor creatures’ fears against them, or to prove that they were out to somehow destroy the Wizarding World.

After the second, he had gone to the head of the MLE and told him that he refused to attend any further trials. Luckily, he had still had enough clout that his boss had agreed he wasn’t needed there, and could better be used in other ways.

Still, even that wasn’t enough to spare him from the effects of the new laws the Minister was putting into place. Mandatory Magical testing for all students before they could even attend Hogwarts. A new detention area for Magical beings who had been determined to be a danger to the community. Specialized housing for Muggle parents of Witches and Wizards who were attending Hogwarts. All of it turned his stomach. And yet, few others seemed disturbed by all this.

Even Hermione seemed undisturbed by it all. “It’s good for the Muggleborns, Harry. Don’t you see that? They’re actually part of this world a good deal more. They feel part of it from the beginning.”

“Hermione…their parents aren’t wizards. And forcing them out of their own homes, making them part of a world where they can’t ever be fully part of the community…what good does that do them?”

“It keeps them safe, Harry. The way my parents weren’t. Or Dean’s. Or any of the other students whose parents were affected by the war.”

“It makes them an easier target, Hermione, not less of one!”

“You don’t understand, Harry…”

“Oh, please, Hermione. Tell me what it is I don't understand! I was more of a target than you ever were!”

Hermione huffed. “Yes. But you never cared for the Dursleys like Dean and I care for our families.”

It had felt like a slap in the face, and Harry had had to walk away from her after that. Did she honestly think he wouldn’t have been horrified if someone had hurt the Dursleys because of him?

The problem was, every time they got together with Ron and Hermione, all Ginny and Hermione wanted to do was talk about the Minister’s new or upcoming proposals. And each seemed worse than the last. Ron was fine on his own. He was more than willing to avoid the topic, as it had far too much to do with work for his taste. But when the girls were involved, nothing could seem to deter them from the topic.

The only time he managed to get away from the topic of the new Minister and her laws was when he was with Draco or Blaise, particularly when he spent time with them at Malfoy Manor. Despite the presence of Lucius in the house, it was the only place that truly felt comfortable any longer.

Unfortunately, it also led to more rows with Ginny, who didn’t want him anywhere near the Manor, let alone Draco. Their arguments grew worse, and Harry spent a few nights on the couch, just about ready to break it off. No relationship was worth this. The good times were growing fewer and farther between.

The solution came when he visited Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. He and George had grown a bit closer after the war, and he’d taken a slightly more active role at the shop for the first year after the war while he’d finished his schooling. Nowadays he did his best to visit at least once a month so the two could catch up, and so that George had someone to bounce his ideas off of.

Normally, during their visits, Harry stayed away from the subject of George’s sister. George didn’t need to bother himself with their troubles, after all. But this time, he’d spent three nights on the couch, and it was beginning to wear on his back. George couldn’t help but notice the wince when Harry sat down.

“What’s up, mate? You look like someone’s been beating on you. Bad capture today?”

Harry looked up at him, a little startled. “Um…no…lots of paperwork today, in fact.”

“What’s wrong, then?” George asked, frowning deeper.

“Just been a bad few nights, George, that’s all.”

George rolled his eyes. “Another row with Gin, then?”

Harry hadn’t realized George had noticed that he and Ginny fought so much. He’d buried himself in this place after Fred’s death. Sometimes he didn’t even come to the Burrow for Christmas with the family. “Um…yeah, actually.” He certainly didn’t seem aware enough to notice others’ problems. Not that Harry blamed him.

George shook his head. “She’s worse than mum, I swear. What is it now? Not Teddy and Andromeda again, I hope?” Ginny had thrown a fit when Andromeda had begun spending time with her remaining sister once more, and Teddy had begun spending time with Harry and Draco. She’d sworn that Draco would teach him dark spells. They’d actually broken up over that one. They’d gotten back together after Harry had promised that he would never leave the two alone together. It had been a lie, of course, but he didn’t tell her that, and so long as she stopped being huffy about it, it was enough.

“No. Just been spending too much time at the Manor these days.” Harry sighed. “She treats it like a criminal offense, George! Like they haven’t paid for their crimes.” He scowled, then looked away. This wasn’t something he should be talking to George about. After all, the Weasleys generally agreed that all the Death Eaters were at fault for Fred’s death. And that included the Malfoys. “Sorry,” he said softly.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Harry. You’ve a right to your friends.”

Harry waited for more, but when George simply continued to work on his latest gadget, he frowned. “It doesn’t bother you that I’m spending time with the Malfoys?”

George looked up to meet his eyes. “Why should it? They’re not teaching you dark spells are they?”

“No. Of course not! Besides, you know as well as I do that I already know plenty of dark spells. I don’t need their help with that.”

George snorted. “No. I suppose not.” He was silent for a moment, then met Harry’s eyes again. “You know…if you wanted to keep her off your back…you could just tell her you’re here when you visit Malfoy. Just let me know ahead of time, of course.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Course, mate. You’re my best investor, after all,” George said with a slight smile. “‘Course I will ask for something in return at some point…” He winked, then went back to his work.

“Something? Like what?”

George smiled enigmatically. “Oh, I’m sure I can come up with an idea or two…”

~ * ~

Things were going far better than Lucius had expected them to. Potter might not be enamoured of Draco yet, but it was obvious that he felt as close, if not closer to him than to his old friends. And that was just what they wanted. Every time Potter visited the Manor, Lucius could feel his goal coming that much closer.

Now all he had to do was find a way to pull the boy deeper. Draco would do as he was told, and Blaise seemed to be following their lead as well. Still, they had a long way to go before Potter would be theirs. More work was needed.

And that meant talking over their next step with Draco.

Draco, though, seemed less inclined to do what his father was suggesting. “I don’t see why Blaise should be first, father. This is Potter we’re talking about. How do you know he won’t fall for him? That’s what he’s like.”

“That is what we are trying to get him past, Draco. His need to dwell on such weaknesses as love. To focus only on one person. And until we have, you are not to sleep with him. Is that clear?”

“Yes, father,” Draco said sourly, looking much as he had when Lucius had told him he would not get Draco a new broom after Potter had gotten his Firebolt in their third year.

“I expect Blaise will know what is required of him?” Lucius asked his son.

“He knows,” Draco said sourly. “He’s been looking forward to it.” If the look on Draco’s face was to be believed, likely he had been gloating about it.

“Good. Tell him he is to owl me as soon as he has managed the deed.”

“Yes, father,” Draco said, still scowling. “Is that all?”

Lucius had to use all his self control to keep from rolling his eyes at his son’s sulk. “Take the boy out, if you must. The three of you. I want you nowhere alone with him until Blaise has succeeded. Perhaps you can find a temporary playmate while you are all out together.”

“And if I don’t want anyone else?”

“Then I suppose you will have to wait, will you not?”

Draco’s scowl deepened. “Yes, father.” He was silent for a moment, then met Lucius’s eyes. “May I be excused now, or are you planning on lecturing me further?”

“That will do for now. Just keep my warnings in mind, Draco. I won’t have our progress ruined by your impatience.”

Draco stood. “It won’t be. I’ll…go owl Blaise now.” He turned and left.

Lucius watched him leave, then sighed softly to himself. The boy would have to learn patience at some point. He only hoped that Draco’s need to own Potter didn’t ruin any chance they had of controlling him.

Chanting a spell, Lucius opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out some notes. Only those who knew the words to the spell would be able to get to them. And right now, that meant he was the only one who could.

The list of resources was drastically reduced from those he had had access to when Draco had been young, but there were enough to manage their plans. So long as Draco didn’t cave to his desires.

Now all Lucius had to do was set certain events in motion. Once everything was in place, Potter would be theirs.

~ * ~

“Fucking hell!” Harry was ready to hex something. Or someone. This really was far too much to expect.

“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked, looking worried. “You look like you’ve been assigned to a Gilderoy Lockhart book signing…”

“Nearly as bad. I’ve been assigned to guard the Minister for the international conference,” he said, growling the words.

“Oh?” Ron knew how much Harry hated the Minister. He couldn’t seem to understand why, but he was at least sympathetic about it. “Maybe we could switch assignments?”

Harry snorted. “Unlikely. She asked for me specifically. I doubt she’ll let me off that easy.”

“Well…at least I’ll be there. I’ve been assigned to the protection detail for the group. And Ginny will be in town as well. Maybe we can go see her on our downtime,” he said with an overly bright smile.

“Maybe,” Harry grunted. Ginny had been touring Europe with her team, and Harry had barely spared her a thought. That might have been because he’d been spending so much time with Draco and Blaise. He smirked slightly when the thought brought to mind their last trip on the town. He’d always been flattered by how the other two men flirted with him, but it had been ego-boosting to have other blokes flirting with him when the other two had taken him to their favorite hangout, which had turned out to be a gay bar.

“I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you,” Ron said, breaking into his memory of the night.

“Hm? Oh…I suppose.” Truthfully, Harry hadn’t even opened her latest owl yet. And her letters were coming less often with each passing day.

“Look…why don’t you come for dinner tonight? I’m sure Hermione would love to see you, and we could talk about plans for the trip.”

“Hm? Oh…I can’t. I have plans.”

Ron frowned. “With Malfoy?”

“No. George, actually.” Harry’d only used the excuse a few times so far, but for once, it wasn’t an excuse. George had asked if Harry could show him the Manor, and after asking Draco for permission, he’d agreed to do just that.

“George? Not sitting around that place again, are you?”

“No, actually. I’m going to take him out. It’ll be good for him.”

“Yeah,” Ron said slowly. “Thanks. He…won’t open up to me.”

Harry frowned. He knew it was hard for the Weasleys, the way George had withdrawn after losing Fred, but there was nothing he could do to change that. “He’s my friend. Hopefully…it will help.”

“I hope so, too,” Ron said softly. “Well…another time, then.”

Harry nodded. “Sometime soon, before we leave. Next week, maybe.”

Ron looked like he wanted to protest, but then nodded. “All right. I should probably get going. See you tomorrow, mate?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.” Harry settled at his desk. He still wasn’t happy about the assignment. Maybe he could talk to Draco about it. Draco always made him feel better about stuff like that. He seemed to have a different way of seeing things that always helped. Hopefully he would be able to work that magic tonight.

But first, Harry had to go get George.

~ * ~

Draco was pacing while he waited for Blaise to come through the Floo. He hated Lucius’s insistence that Blaise be Harry’s first. It meant they couldn’t be alone together. But at the same time, Draco desperately wanted to be. And seeing Blaise plaster himself all over Harry hurt. Every single time.

When Blaise appeared, Draco wasn’t able to work up his usual smile for his friend. This whole thing had strained their friendship—not that Lucius cared, so long as they got Harry where they wanted him.

“Is he here yet?” Blaise asked, once he’d brushed himself clean.

“No.” Draco led the way up the staircase. “He’s bringing George Weasley with him, so I don’t know how long it will take him to get here.”

“Weasley? The twin?”

Draco nodded. “He asked if he could see the place. Not sure why.”

“Odd…”

“They’re friends. It’s not like I can say no without making him wonder why. So I’ll just make sure he’s not left alone anywhere he might cause trouble…”

“But otherwise find a spot to tuck him so that we can be alone with Harry?” Blaise asked with a smirk.

Draco met his eyes, his stomach sinking. “Something like that,” he said softly.

“Is that why is he’s coming by? Because Weasley wanted to see the place?”

“No. He said he was going off to France in a little over a week, and he wanted to spend some time with us before then.”

“France? To see that tart of his?” Blaise asked with a scowl.

“No. Some sort of assignment, apparently. I know that father’s been working on getting the Minister to spend some time there, so I think that’s why they’re going. Some sort of friendship treaty between the two magical communities, I guess.”

“Ah.” They both knew that was part of Lucius’s overall plan, though he’d refused to tell Draco too much, telling him that he was better off not knowing.

“Yeah.”

“Well…we should give him a good send-off, at least. We could take him to that club again…” Both looked up as the wards sounded.

“That will be them. Stay here. I’ll bring them up.” Draco made his way down the stairs to wait by the front door, watching as the two men came up the pathway to the manor.

~ * ~

Once Harry had changed, he Apparated to the store, where George was just shutting down for the night. “Hey, Harry.”

“Hey, George. All ready?”

“Just about. Come on in. I have something I need to grab.”

“Sure.” Harry moved inside, and heard George close the door behind him. “In the back?”

“Yeah. But you can stay here. I won’t be long.” George shot him a smile, then ducked into the back.

Harry wondered what George was up to, but he left it alone. It was a big deal that he was even consenting to leave the store. He hadn’t done so since the last Christmas holiday. And even then, he’d spent most of his time alone in the corner. Not even Teddy or Victoire had been able to cheer him. So Harry wasn’t about to jeopardize the opportunity of getting him out and about.

George was back in a moment, and smiled at Harry. “All ready. We Apparating?”

Harry nodded. “You know how to get there?”

“Yep. Looked it up. I’m right behind you, mate.”

“All right.” Harry smiled at him, then Apparated to the front gate of the manor and waited for George to appear.

He didn’t have to wait long. George appeared around a corner after a moment. “Apparated a bit too far away. So…this it?” he asked, looking up at the gate.

“Yep. I know it’s a bit imposing, but…”

“Actually, I was expecting a lot more Gothic than this, so....” He shrugged. “Shall we?”

“Right.” Harry raised his wand and the gate opened for them, then led the way up the walk. “Draco knows we’re coming, so they should be waiting for us.”

George grinned. “They weren’t horrified by having a Weasley in their home?”

“They’ve changed, George. You’ll see.” He led the way up the walk, then was about to knock when the door opened, Draco grinning at him from the other side.

“Hello, Harry.” He glanced at George, a long, perusing look. “Weasley.”

“Be nice, Draco,” Harry chided him.

“I will. I promised.” He held out his hand to George. “Welcome to our home, Weasley.”

George raised his eyebrow, then took his hand. “Thank you, Malfoy. Quite the estate.”

“We’re fond of it. Do come in and look around…” He stepped back from the door so they could enter.

Harry let George go first, remembering the first time he had come here after the war. Of course, his memories had coloured his perception of the place, but those memories had faded in the face of others. Long afternoons talking and walking and playing Quidditch here. He barely remembered Hermione’s screams any longer.

He could see George gauging the place, but his expression was guarded, so Harry wasn’t certain what he thought.

“We’ve lived here for many generations…I can’t imagine living anywhere else…” Draco was saying now.

“Do you get lost often?” George asked him.

“It’s not _that_ big, Weasley. Just because we don’t live in a…” He glanced at Harry and abruptly switched topics. “Would you like a tour?”

George glanced at Harry. “If Harry doesn’t mind…”

“Actually, Blaise is up in my sitting room. He could visit him while I showed you around…unless you wanted him to come with us?”

George looked between them. “I don’t mind…if Harry doesn’t.”

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Not at all, George. I’m sure Draco will take good care of you.”

“If you’re sure…” George said.

“Absolutely.” Harry put his hand on George’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sure you’ll have a great tour. And Blaise and I can talk until you’ve had your fill.”

Draco nodded. “I promise not to let any of the carnivorous plants near him,” he said with a grin.

“You have carnivorous plants?” George said. Harry grinned as he recognized the avaricious tone. The two of them would be just fine.

“See you both soon …” When the two waved distractedly at him, he smiled, then turned and made his way up the main stairs.

~ * ~

Blaise had been looking forward to this. So much depended on him leading Harry on a careful dance, but after their visit to the club, he knew it wouldn’t take much more to convince Harry he wanted more than just compliments and whistles from guys.

When Draco had invited him over tonight, he’d known what Lucius was expecting. This was a test. To see if he could succeed. Or if they still had to sever his relationship with the Weasley girl before they started down this path.

When Harry appeared in the doorway, though, his worries faded. Just the smile on Harry’s face told him his battle was at least half won. “Harry…” He stood and moved to Harry’s side. “So good to see you. Draco said Weasley’s brother is visiting as well?”

“He is. Draco’s showing him around. I didn’t know you’d be here. It’s good to see you.”

“And you,” Blaise said, kissing his cheek. “Always good to see you. Come sit with me?”

Harry nodded, letting Blaise tug him to the sofa he’d been perched on. “Just came to visit?”

“Oh…you know Draco and I…Can’t ever get enough of each other. And you?”

It was rare to see Harry blush these days, but Blaise had phrased his statement in a way he knew likely to cause just that with the image he had planted in his mind. “Er…George wanted to see the place.”

“Of course,” Blaise told him with a smirk, scooting closer. “We were just talking, you know…”

“You were?” Harry asked.

“Mm hm. About how to give you a good send-off,” Blaise said with a smirk. He could have sworn he’d seen Harry’s eyes dilate at the words.

“Oh?” He was obviously trying to sound casual, but his voice cracked, and Blaise couldn’t resist scooting closer to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Well…you remember the club we took you to?” Harry nodded. “You looked like you were having a good time there…so we thought we might take you there again.” Of course, the true highlight of the night had been when Harry had gotten sloshed enough to actually flirt back. He’d almost managed to get a kiss from him, but Draco had interrupted. Still, he was sure that this time, he could manage it. If Draco could stop acting so jealous.

“That would be nice. I had fun.”

“So did we,” Blaise said, leaning closer. “We’re looking forward to it.”

Before he could try for a kiss, though, the door opened, and Harry jumped back, then grinned up at Draco as he entered. “Hey, Draco.” After a second, though, he frowned. “Where’s George?”

Draco was scowling at Blaise, but at the question, he turned a smile on Harry. “He wanted to look around the library. He said he’d be fine. I told him to call one of the house-elves if he wanted to find us.” He moved to settle on Harry’s other side. “So…what were you talking so intently about?”

“I was telling him about our plans to take him out again before he runs off to France…”

“Ah. Was _that_ what that was?” The look Draco shot him told him he knew exactly what Blaise had been trying.

“Yes. I’m flattered, actually. It always surprises me how great you guys are. I mean, we used to hate each other…”

Harry’s words defused the situation, and both men smiled at him. “We just didn’t know you well enough, Harry, that’s all.”

Draco nodded, scooting closer. “Besides, you were adorable there. I’ve missed seeing you flush…” He grinned as Harry did just that.

“Some of the men there are rather…shameless, aren’t they?”

“Just a bit,” Blaise told him, scooting closer to Harry’s other side. “That’s how gay men are when we’re…in our element.”

“Which for Blaise includes any space he happens to be in,” Draco said, rolling his eyes.

“He’s not that bad, Draco. I think his attitude is refreshing, actually.”

“Refreshing? That he acts like everyone should be fucking him at all times?”

Blaise was pressed close enough to Harry to feel him shudder at the words, but even had he not felt it, he wouldn’t have been able to miss his flush. “I don’t mind,” he muttered.

“That’s only because you want him, too, don’t you?” Draco’s tone was bitter.

Harry looked up to meet Draco’s eyes. “I’m straight!”

Draco stood up. “Oh, bull shit, Harry.” He turned to look at him. Every time either one of us flirts with you in a way you’re not expecting, you go redder than Weasley’s ears when I bait him. You might not have tried before, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t curious.”

“I…” Harry looked between them. “But…I have a girlfriend.”

Blaise chuckled softly. “He’s right, Harry. It really doesn’t mean that much. Especially these days. Are you honestly going to say that the thought has never occurred to you?”

Harry met his eyes. “I suppose I’d be an idiot if I said I hadn’t considered it…”

“Yes,” Draco said, and Harry turned towards him.

“Draco… It’s not…” he glanced at Blaise once more, then back at Draco. “You’re my friends. It’s not something I’d ever considered seriously. I thought it was just how you both are. But it’s not, is it?”

“Does it matter?” Blaise asked. “We’re your friends because we want to be, Harry. Anything else is just a bonus, right Draco?”

Draco’s eyes met Blaise’s, but it was a moment before he nodded. He looked at Harry. “We know you’re with Ginevra, so we haven’t wanted to push. But that doesn’t mean that our flirting means nothing, either. And if things change…” He moved to settle beside Harry again. “You know where we are.”

Harry looked down. “Yeah…”

Blaise stroked fingers through Harry’s hair. He caught Draco’s scowl, but knew he wouldn’t interfere this time if Harry responded. It was a victory that Blaise couldn’t help but savour.

Harry looked up to meet Blaise’s eyes, licking his lips. “I suppose…one kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?” he asked softly.

“No one,” Blaise assured him, not looking at Draco, though he was certain if he had, that Draco’s eyes would have been shooting daggers. He stroked Harry’s cheek. “Why? Do you want to?” The answer was obvious to him, but they needed Harry to realize that it was truly what he wanted.

He didn’t have to wait long. As soon as Harry leaned forward, Blaise did the rest, leaning in to press their lips together. The feeling of Harry’s breath puffing against his lips was exhilarating, and Blaise couldn’t resist darting his tongue out to trace lightly over the seam of Harry’s lips.

Harry gasped, pulling back. “I don’t know…maybe this is a bad idea…?”

Draco met Blaise’s eyes for a moment, then tugged Harry’s face to turn it towards him. “Why not, Harry? Who are we hurting? It’s just a kiss…”

“But…Ginny…”

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Blaise whispered in his ear, even as he watched Draco press his lips to Harry’s. Both gasped softly at the contact, and Blaise shook his head. Draco’s father wouldn’t be pleased. If he found out, anyway…

There was a sound at the doorway, and Draco and Harry broke apart as Blaise looked up. But it wasn’t Draco’s father who stood there.

~ * ~

A bolt of fear shot through Harry at the sight of George standing in the doorway, and he stood up quickly. “Shit…George…this isn’t what it looks like…”

“Oh? So you weren’t kissing Malfoy, then?”

“No. Well…yes. But I’ve never…not before, George. I swear it.” Fuck. What if he told Ginny? Worse, what if he told Ron?

George shook his head. “Look, Harry. What you do with your friends is your own business, but I won’t help you cheat on Ginny. If this is what you want, though…maybe you should think about things a bit?”

“Maybe.” Harry was scared to look back at Blaise and Draco. He wasn’t sure he could face them right now. “Maybe we should get going?”

“Harry…you don’t have to…” Draco said.

“If you think you need to,” Blaise said. “But when you’re ready to talk…owl us. We’d still like to take you out before you go off to France…”

Harry nodded. “Right. I’ll…owl.” It was weird, he thought, as he and George walked down the stairs and through the front door. George should have been angrier at him. After all, he was Ginny’s brother.

He shot a glance at George, who seemed placid as ever. He smiled softly at Harry. “Meant it, Harry. What you do is your own business. Just decide first, okay? I know Gin’s been giving you a hard time, but don’t just run to them because they’re easier to deal with.”

“Right.” He knew it was good advice. It had just been such a surprise…the two of them really wanting him…

“I’ll talk to you later, Harry,” George said as they got to the end of the walk. Harry looked up, surprised. The walk had taken no time at all.

“Right. See you, George.”

George smiled. “Yeah. Just…do me a favor? Go home? Think about it first? And break up with Gin if you do decide they’re what you really want?”

Harry nodded sheepishly. “I will George. And thanks.”

“No problem, mate.” And then he Apparated away.

Harry glanced back at the house, wondering if Draco and Blaise were watching him through the curtains, or laughing at him for being a fool. But then, they’d had plenty of opportunity to do that before now, and hadn’t seemed inclined…

Confused, Harry shook his head, spinning on the spot, then apparating to his flat. Time to do some thinking. It had been a very strange day.

The problem was, Harry wasn’t sure _what_ he wanted, now that Blaise and Draco weren’t right there, filling his head with images. He knew he liked them, but was he really interested in either of them in _that_ way?

Then there was Ginny, which complicated things a bit. It was true they had been fighting almost constantly since the end of the war. But he was sure he loved her. Didn’t he? If that was true, though, why were they fighting? And why did he want to kiss anyone else? Was Draco right? Was he gay? Or at least, partly? He knew things were a bit more complicated than that, but it came back to the same thing, didn’t it? Being interested in another guy—or two, if he counted Blaise as well—meant that he was bi at least, right?

The question wasn’t so much whether or not he was gay. What it really boiled down to was whether or not he should be dating Ginny at all. If he wasn’t sure what he wanted, maybe that meant they shouldn’t be together right now? He ignored the small voice that sounded a bit too much like Draco that suggested they should never have gotten together in the first place.

Then there was how Ron would react to he and Ginny breaking things off. Harry’d been on the receiving end of Ron’s temper enough times to want to avoid it if at all possible. He knew that that wasn’t enough of a reason to stay with her, but he wasn’t sure if there were other reasons to stay with her. He knew there had been at one time. He just couldn’t remember what they were.

Shaking his head, Harry began to get ready for bed. He’d just have to think about it. Maybe he should write to Ginny? She deserved to talk this out, after all. He’d read her letter tomorrow, then send a response. If nothing else, he could do that much.

After a night of tossing and turning, and overly sensual dreams about Draco and Blaise doing wicked things to each other as a show for him, Harry was almost too groggy to remember the letter. As he was leaving, the sight of the unopened letter on the hall table, he grabbed it and stuffed it in his pocket, then Apparated to work.

The day passed in a sleep-deprived blur, and it wasn’t until Ron asked how things had gone with George the night before that Harry remembered his dilemma. “Went fine. Nothing special, but I think it was good for him,” Harry said distractedly, reaching into his pocket where the unopened letter waited.

“Good. Good. Look…Hermione wanted to know which day would be best for you for supper. She’s decided she wants to cook the whole thing herself…” He looked pained. Hermione was an adequate cook, but her meals tended to be far more complicated and temper-inducing than they needed to be.

“Um…Well…Monday, I suppose? Or would Sunday be better?”

“Sunday would be great, Mate. If you’re willing?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah. It’s been too long.”

“Great. I’ll just…go let her know.” Ron hurried off toward the owlry, and Harry smiled and shook his head, then pulled out Ginny’s letter.

Having been anticipating what he should tell her, the contents took Harry completely by surprise. _I’ve met someone here…._ It took three readings before the sentence made sense. Ginny was breaking up with him! The world went red in a flash of fury. How dare she? She’d been cheating on him?

Harry’s temper cooled as he reread the note. She went on to say that she hadn’t approached them about this, and that she knew they would have to talk before anything happened.

It was startling, and Harry had to battle his anger. After all, she was the one who insisted that they were destined, wasn’t she? She was the one who had waited oh-so-patiently until Harry had been ready. But apparently now he wasn’t good enough, now that she had him?

Harry pushed away from his desk and began to pace, his worries from the night before completely gone in the face of this news. How could she? Making him feel like everything falling apart was his fault? Suddenly, he wished he’d gone further the night before. He knew Blaise and Draco would have offered more if he had been willing. Well, he was damned willing now. He had half a mind to go to the Manor right now…

Ron reappeared, interrupting that train of thought. “Hey, Harry. Want to come out and get lunch with me?”

“Um…not now, Ron. I…have some paperwork to get to.” Which was sort of true. He had to write back to Ginny, after all.

“Oh…okay. Well…sent off the owl. Let you know what she says tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Have a good lunch, Ron,” Harry said, sitting down and pulling the letter toward him again. He didn’t see Ron leave.

It took him most of his lunch break to find the right wording. By the time he had, his temper had cooled. Maybe this was best for both of them? Obviously they both had other interests now. Surely this could end amiably?

Finished, he pulled another sheet of parchment from the stack he kept in his drawer, and began to jot a note to Draco suggesting their club date for that Friday. He needed _something_ to get his mind off this, after all. Not to mention he wanted to see if they were actually serious in their interest.

~ * ~

After their visit earlier in the week, Draco wasn’t sure this was a good idea. But he wasn’t about to let Harry be here alone with Blaise, so here he was.

Harry seemed different tonight. The first time they’d brought him, he’d been a bit stiff, but he’d soon loosened up; enough to smile or laugh when others flirted with him. Tonight he looked like he was going to be sick, and was having trouble meeting their eyes when they talked to him. “Are you okay, Harry?”

Turning to meet Draco’s eyes, Harry nodded. “Yeah. Just…been a strange week.”

“Strange?” Blaise asked with a grin. “I didn’t think the kiss was that bad, Harry. Should we try again?”

Draco scowled, rolling his eyes. “Go stuff your head in a bucket of ice, Blaise. What do you mean, Harry? Did something else happen?”

Harry shrugged, swallowing another gulp of his drink. “Letter from Ginny.”

“And?” Draco asked. Obviously they’d started fighting long-distance, for a letter to bother Harry like this.

“I…think we’re breaking up…”

Draco didn’t trust himself to speak. But Blaise’s response said more than enough for both of them. “About time. Now all you have to do is forget the bitch.” He grabbed Harry’s hand. “Come on. Dance with me.”

“I don’t know, Blaise…” He glanced at Draco, then back at Blaise. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come tonight…”

At a glare from Blaise as a push, Draco shook his head. “Nonsense, Harry. You just need to take your mind of things. And what better way to do that than a night out with your friends? Blaise and I will take good care of you,” he said with a smile.

Harry shot him a smile, the echoes of nerves and sadness fading a little. “Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

“Yes. We will. Now come dance before I think you don’t like me any more,” Blaise said with a smirk, tugging once more at Harry.

This time, Harry nodded, letting Blaise lead him to the dance floor. Once they were away, Draco let his scowl show. He didn’t want to see them together, and yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. The way Blaise ground against Harry, his hands seeming everywhere.

Still, he had to watch, just in case. What if they tried to sneak away together? He couldn’t allow that to happen.

A voice interrupted his disgusted perusal of the two of them. “Excuse me?”

Draco looked up at the guy who’d stopped next to the table. “Yes?”

“You look like you could use a dance?”

The bloke was attractive enough, fit with deep auburn hair and bright eyes, but he wasn’t Harry. “Not tonight, thanks.”

The guy looked between Draco and where Harry was dancing with Blaise on the floor. “He your boyfriend?”

“No,” Draco said sourly.

“But you wish he was?”

Draco glowered at him. “And what’s that to you?”

“Sorry. Just…trying to help. Maybe making him realize what he’s missing would help?” He smiled hopefully.

“No. Now scram.”

The guy scowled. “Fine. Your loss.” He stalked off across the bar and found himself another partner, but Draco’s gaze was already back on Blaise and Harry where they appeared to be moments away from fucking each other on the dance floor.

“Fucking hell,” Draco growled, getting to his feet. He made his way out onto the dance floor, then pulled them apart. Harry was flushed and panting, his green eyes glowing in a way Draco’d never seen before. If Blaise hadn’t caused it, he’d have said he looked gorgeous that way. To distract himself from the sight, Draco glowered at Blaise. “This isn’t the place for that. Come on. Let’s at least take this back to the Manor, all right?”

Blaise smirked. “What is your problem, Draco? It’s nothing you and I haven’t done here… Or do I need to guess about your sudden prudishness?” He shot a glance at Harry, who looked confused.

“Can we just head back to the Manor? You can…manhandle him there. Far more comfortably. And with less of an audience.”

The words had Harry flushing. “Er…yeah…” Obviously, he’d forgotten where he was. “I’d rather not do that sort of thing with other people around.”

Blaise looked slightly contrite at that. “Of course, Harry. We wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He led Harry off the floor, his arm around Harry’s shoulders, and Draco trailed behind them, still glowering.

The trip to the Manor was blissfully short, and as soon as they made it to the second floor, Blaise led Harry off to the guest wing. Draco watched after them, his stomach dropping at the way they leaned into each other, trading kisses. He turned away and headed towards his rooms, trying to distract himself from what he knew they were off to do. It wasn’t fair.

Draco slept very little that night, crawling into his bed well after dawn, his head spinning with the wine he’d drunk to try to distract himself.

Lucius came in sometime around eight to shake him awake. Draco blinked blearily up at him. “Father?”

“The house-elves tell me we have a guest?” he asked. To anyone else, his expression would have been passive. But Draco saw the slant to his lips and the twinkle in his eye that showed he was amused.

Draco sat up and nodded. “We brought Harry back after being out last night.” The memory of the two of them heading down the hall made Draco’s heart clench again.

Lucius smirked at the words. “And?”

Sighing, Draco reached for his robe. “And…I assume he and Blaise are…” Draco closed his eyes, swallowing down the bile. “Happily wrapped around each other still,” he ground out.

“Actually, the elf told me Blaise left over an hour ago. Perhaps you should check on our guest?”

Draco looked up at his father. He knew that was implicit permission to sleep with Harry now that Blaise had ‘broken him in.’ “Yes. I suppose I should.” He stood, pulling his robe around himself.

“Perhaps you and he can have an extended…breakfast,” Lucius said with a smirk that made Draco’s stomach churn.

“Perhaps.” He turned away. “I suppose you wish me to come and see you once he is gone?”

“Yes.”

Draco nodded, then headed towards Harry’s room. The morning light was muted the guest wing, and Draco wondered if Harry was awake, and just how much he and Blaise had done the night before.

By the time he had reached the room, he was not so sure he wanted to follow his father’s rules in this. It hurt, thinking of the two of them curled around each other. At least Blaise was gone, so he wouldn’t have to see it. But that didn’t make it any easier to face Harry.

He rapped at the door. “Harry? You awake?”

It was a few moments before Draco heard feet shuffling on the other side of the door, and then it was opened. “Wha…? Draco?”

“Morning, sleepy head. That’s what you get for over indulging last night. Do you need a potion?” He pushed past Harry, trying to ignore his rumpled state, or the state of the bed. “I could send for one. Or breakfast?”

“‘M fine,” Harry muttered, moving back to the bed and dropping down onto it. “Time is it?”

“About eight thirty.”

Harry fell back onto the bed. “Too early.”

“Weekend or not, we weren’t out _that_ late, Harry… Or did the two of you…stay up late?” Draco tried unsuccessfully to keep the bitterness from his tone.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows. “Why? Jealous?” His tone was unmistakably amused.

“Yes!” Draco hated how petulant he sounded. It wasn’t fair, damn it!

Harry smirked. “You could have joined us, you know.”

Draco made a face and turned away. He couldn’t have, and he knew it. But he couldn’t say so to Harry. “Yeah…well…”

“Well, it’s your own fault then, isn’t it?”

Draco turned and glowered at him. “You’re getting too big for that ego of yours, Potter. I’d watch it if I were you.”

Harry’s eyes went round. “Draco…I was just teasing.”

Draco turned away again. He’d known it, but his own ego was too bruised to allow him not to respond. “Sorry. I just…”

He was stopped by Harry’s hand on his shoulder. “Maybe…”

“No. I think…it would be best if you went home.” Draco looked up again to meet Harry’s eyes. “We’ll see you when you get back, though. Right?” And then maybe it would be his turn. He couldn’t stand the thought of sleeping with Harry this morning. Not when everyone was expecting it of him.

Harry nodded. “Of course. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”

“Good.” There was a pause, then Draco leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t enough, but just feeling Harry’s hand on his shoulder as they kissed helped. “Stay safe in France,” he said when he pulled back.

“I will. You take care of yourself, Draco.” Draco nodded, then left Harry to dress.

~ * ~

The next week went so fast that many things fell by the wayside. A last-minute planning session for those going to France meant that he had to postpone supper with Ron and Hermione Sunday night, and what with one thing and another, they weren’t able to find time to manage it before he and Ron had to leave.

It also meant that he wasn’t able to spend too much time dwelling on his visit with Blaise and Draco and what had happened when they had returned to the Manor. The memories of that night were blurred by the overabundance of drink he’d had at the club, but even so, he could remember the pleasure of it.

The feel of Blaise’s lips around his cock, similar and yet so different from when Ginny had done the same, if grudgingly. Blaise hadn’t been grudging at all. He’d knelt down and sucked him in before Harry could even say a word, and all he’d been able to do was groan and cling to Blaise the best he could without accidentally pulling his hair.

And that pleasure had been nothing to the feeling of being inside him. So tight. He knew now, this was what he’d always expected when he’d been with Ginny before. What he’d craved.

He was still a bit sad Draco hadn’t joined them, and he couldn’t help but wonder why Draco was so bothered by it. He’d seen Draco and Blaise kiss and grope each other plenty of times before. He’d hoped that maybe, that morning, when Draco had come to wake him up, they might have been able to do more, but Draco’s jealousy had been too much. Did really hate him encroaching on his relationship with Blaise? He hadn’t realized they meant that much to each other. Or maybe Draco just wanted them to?

Still, preparations kept Harry from dwelling on things too much, and it was only late at night in his bed that he allowed himself to wonder what it would have been like to have Draco with them.

The trip was as bad as Harry’d been dreading. The Minister dragged him around as though he were the one everyone were there to see, and only rarely did he manage to keep out of the spotlight. Every chance he got, he made sure to lag back with Ron’s group, guarding her from a distance, just the way he preferred.

The two friends kept things light conversation-wise during the trip. While Harry hadn’t been able to visit Ron and Hermione for supper, he and Ron had talked about Ginny before they’d left.

“It really is too bad, Harry. Still…maybe the two of you will get back together sometime. Just need to sow your oats or something, that’s all.”

“Maybe, Ron.” But Harry didn’t think so. He was pretty sure that he and Ginny would be happy if they were friends instead of lovers. He just wasn’t going to say so to Ron. At least, not any time soon.

“At least the duties here have been light so far…”

“For you, maybe,” Harry said. The Minister had insisted Harry be right by his side at every possible moment, and he was about ready to strangle her if he didn’t get away from her soon. “You’re not the one who has to sit next to her tonight at the banquet.”

“True. But maybe it’ll go really fast. You never know.”

“These things never go fast, Ron. Still…at least we have the morning off. That’s something… Where should we go first?”

“Eiffel Tower, of course,” Ron said with a grin. “Promised to bring back one of those little statues for mum.”

“They sell those all over the place, Ron.”

“And to get pictures of us up there,” Ron added, grinning.

“All right. Then I was thinking the Arc de Triomphe, and then lunch near the river.”

“Sounds like a plan, then,” Ron said as he pulled on his coat.

Paris had turned out to be more beautiful than Harry had imagined it would be. It wasn’t London, and he wouldn’t want to live there, but he thought he might need to come back sometime on his own. Or maybe with Blaise and Draco. They both knew the city, after all. And after a day out with them… He suppressed the shiver the thought provoked, following Ron to the Tower.

The view from the tower was breathtaking. Not that he had expected any less. And he was glad to be there with Ron. It was nice to have time together—just the two of them. They rarely had a chance to do that these days between jobs and being with their girlfriends. Harry found he missed it. He’d have to remember to get tickets to a Quidditch match sometime soon so they could go together.

After descending, they crossed the river, walking slowly, talking about anything and everything under the sun in a way they hadn’t done since they were at Hogwarts. It was the best day Harry could remember spending with Ron in a good long time.

It ended too soon, of course. They had to get back to the hotel before one to get dressed in their formal Aurors robes, then head to the lobby to meet the Minister’s party. Harry only hoped they’d be allowed another day like that before they went back to England at the end of the week.

As soon as Minister Hopkirk saw Harry, she beamed, stepping forward to take his arm. Harry winced at the strength of her grip, reminded of the Yule Ball in Fourth Year, then waved at Ron as he moved to walk behind them.

Hopkirk began to chatter at him about all the presents and offers she’d received since arriving in France. Harry rolled his eyes, but held his tongue. It would be over soon enough anyway. He hoped.

They headed down the hall toward the banquet hall, and were just about to enter when a blast shook the hall around them. Harry fell to the floor, barely managing to avoid the Minister, then sprang to his feet. Ron was next to him in a moment. “What was it? Was that a spell?” he asked, scanning the area. “Where did it come from?”

“I don’t know, Ron. Guard her. I’m going to go see if it was in here, or in the hall.”

Ron nodded, moving to the Minister’s side to help her up. “Be careful, mate.”

“I will, Ron. Hopefully it was a one-time detonation to distract us.”

“Potter! You should stay near me,” she called out.

Harry rolled his eyes. Now she was telling him how to do his job? “I’ll be right back, ma’am.” Then he slipped carefully into the banquet hall, looking around for anyone who might have been laying in wait for them, eternally grateful for a moment away from the woman.

The room looked completely unaffected. He was about to cross to the doors on the opposite side of the room when he heard shouting in the hall.

“Ron?” He ran to the door, catching sight of a green glow, fading already when he caught sight of the Minister and the guards who were ringing her. He was just in time to see Ron crumple to the floor, wide-eyed and staring. “No! Ron!” He began to shoot stunning spells toward the attackers, trying desperately to get to his best friend. Ron couldn’t be dead! It wasn’t possible.

The spells missed all but one of their targets, scattering the others. The rest of their team gave chase after them, but Harry had eyes only for Ron. “Ron! Ron, please...” He dropped to his knees, but even as he did, he knew it was no use. He could see Ron wasn’t breathing, and when he reached out to touch him, he was already ice cold. “No…Ron…please…”

He couldn’t remember who had finally pulled him away from Ron’s body. Nor could he remember the hours of questions that followed. All he could think of was that green light, and of Hermione, waiting at home for Ron to return—but he never would. All the missed opportunities and lost chances threatened to drown Harry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds himself getting closer to the Malfoys as his world begins to fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See notes in [Part 1](http://elfflame.insanejournal.com/561749.html#cutid1).

The Prophet’s report of the attack the next morning was minimal at best, but Lucius was pleased to see that Potter’s part was barely touched on—merely that he had been in attendance, and that his friend had lost his life in the attack.

He’d heard from his contact that the attack had gone off even better than expected. Potter had no clue. He also had missed a few of the crucial clues they’d purposefully left him, but that could wait for later. Lucius knew he’d investigate eventually. After all, Weasley had been his best friend. He’d only expected him to lose a co-worker. This was a godsend.

Now that he thought of it, Weasley had been the perfect target. He would have to send a wreath in gratitude for the boy throwing his life away for such a great cause.

In many ways, the boy had been the last thread tying Potter to his past. Granger would be easier to poison him against, given how often the boy had complained of her controlling ways. And once that was done, Potter would be theirs.

Especially now that he had succumbed to Blaise and Draco’s lure. Certainly, the boy had not slept with Draco yet, but it was only a matter of time. Especially now that he would need a shoulder to cry on.

But first, Lucius had to make sure that his son would do as expected.

He sent an elf to summon his son, then sat back to wait.

It was all coming together. Soon, he would have everything he wanted.

~ * ~

As soon as he could, he returned to England. He knew Hermione had been informed. It had been one of the few things he had made sure of the moment he realized he wouldn’t be allowed to get away to tell her himself.

So it wasn’t until the next day before he was able to go to her.

He couldn’t ever remember seeing her look so lost. Her eyes were empty, and when she saw Harry, she seemed to have no reaction. “Hermione…?”

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted him tonelessly. She turned away from the open door and moved back into the flat she’d shared with Ron.

He closed the door behind himself, then followed her into the living room, which looked as though she’d spent the entire time drinking tea. Every possible surface was covered in cups. The only free spot was the one where she was now sitting, her hands curled around a cup, staring down into it as though she would be able to read the leaves there.

Shifting a few cups, Harry settled next to her, his arm going around her shoulders.

“We always knew,” she whispered.

“Knew?” Harry asked.

“The chances. You’re high-profile, which increased the chance he might…” Her voice broke, and she sipped at her cup, trying to stifle her sobs.

Just hearing it made Harry break a little more, and he took the cup from her and put it aside, then hugged her tight. “I’m so sorry, Hermione.” He wanted to break himself, but he couldn’t. Not right now. Right now, he needed to be strong for her.

The soft cries were nothing to what emerged when she pressed her face to Harry’s shoulder, her whole body shaking with the sobs. There were words between the sobs, but Harry couldn’t quite make them out. He just stroked her back, rocking her and letting her cry. He blamed himself. He deserved this pain. He’d put Ron in that situation. But Hermione didn’t. She never had. She’d waited so patiently for Ron to realize, and now… Now that was all gone. And there was no way he would suggest to her that he was glad they’d had the time together they’d had. No length of time would ever have been enough.

“I keep…waiting for him,” he heard her mumble into his shoulder, and he nodded. He kept expecting to see Ron appear with all the paperwork they’d have to fill out. Or to stop by and tell him to stop brooding and blaming himself and come out and grab some lunch with him. He knew it would only get worse as the week went on. The unreality fading to stark fact—that Ron was gone. Forever.

“I know,” he said softly. He wasn’t going to give her platitudes. Hermione deserved better. The problem was, that left him with little to say. And he still desperately wanted to be alone with his own thoughts.

When her buzzer went off, he was grateful. “You want me to get that?”

She shook her head, then pulled back, wiping her face, a fresh flood of tears streaking her cheek, then nodded. “Yes,” she choked out. “Please? Just…tell them to go?”

He nodded, handing her a tissue before going to get the door. It was Ginny. The sight of her was so shocking he didn’t even think to stop her as she glowered at him, then brushed past him to hurry to Hermione’s side. He heard the fresh sobs as he shut the door. When he returned to her living room, the two girls were hugging each other, both sobbing now. He couldn’t make out what Hermione was saying, or Ginny’s responses, and he wasn’t sure what he should do.

Finally, he began to clean up the place, picking up empty and half-empty cups, then setting them in the dishwasher, listening to the murmur of solemn voices, and the soft sobs as they faded away once more. When he returned to the living room, the two seemed calmer. “Hermione…”

Ginny glowered up at him. “I think you’ve done enough, Harry. This is better handled by a girl, anyway.”

Scowling, Harry found himself restraining the urge to slap her. He had to remind himself forcibly that she’d just lost another of her brothers, and how much she had to be hurting right now.

“No, Ginny…” Hermione’s voice was croaky.

“I’ll stay here with you,” Ginny assured her.

Hermione looked between them, finally nodded. “We’ll talk soon, okay, Harry?”

He wanted to smile, but he felt as though he’d never be able to do so again, so he nodded instead. “Yeah. We will.” He stepped closer to squeeze her hand. “I’ll owl. Soon.”

She nodded, and he could see her fighting the tears once more. “All right. And Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t blame yourself for this?”

Harry heard a ‘tisk’ from Ginny, but ignored it as he nodded. “I’ll try not to,” he assured Hermione, even though he knew he was lying. He gathered himself, then Apparated to his flat, sinking onto his sofa.

He didn’t know what to do next. Where he should go. Where he belonged. Surely the rest of the Weasleys would blame him as much as much as Ginny did? Even if they didn’t, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face them. It left him aching for Remus or Sirius, even Tonks or Kingsley. Someone to talk to so that he could sort this out. It hurt too much to be alone right now.

It took a few minutes of his thoughts going in circles before the answer occurred to him. Draco. He might not have liked Ron, but he would understand how Harry felt. And right now, he needed Draco’s logic to calm him. And maybe a bit of comfort.

~ * ~

Draco had been waiting for Harry to appear since his father had showed him the article in the Prophet, so the elf announcing Harry had arrived was only waved aside so Draco could hurry to Harry’s side.

“Oh, Harry…I’m so sorry.”

Harry stared at him with dead eyes for a moment, then Draco pulled him into his arms, and Harry collapsed against him. “I…can I…?”

“Of course, Harry. You’re always welcome here.” Draco led him slowly upstairs, and to his own rooms. They would be more comfortable there. “Do you need anything?”

“Just…don’t let go.” Harry sounded as though the words had been torn from him physically.

“I won’t.” It was enough to almost make Draco tear up over Weasley’s death. Seeing Harry like this was painful. He led Harry into the sitting room, then pushed him onto the sofa, curling his arm around him and letting Harry bury his face in his shoulder.

They sat that way for several minutes before Harry began to speak, talking in a monotone about what had happened. Draco closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him. If he’d known what his father had been planning before Harry had left for France, he would have insisted upon joining him there. Obviously, this had been too much for Harry. But then, Draco knew how close he had been to Weasley.

Had his father planned that specifically? He would have to find out later. Any questions would have to wait until Harry had recovered to some degree. For now, Draco held him close, rocking him and stroking his back.

“I’m here, Harry. Tell me what you need. What can I do to help?” he whispered.

Harry’s eyes were hollow when he met Draco’s. “I don’t know. I can’t stop remembering…I just…need to forget. Just for a bit?”

“Forget?” Draco asked, confused. “What do you mean, Harry? What do you want me to do?” Was he asking Draco to take away the memory with a spell?

When Harry leaned in to kiss him, Draco pulled back, shocked. That had been the last thing he’d expected tonight. “Harry…?”

“Please, Draco…I just…I need to…forget. To connect with someone. You do…want me, don’t you?”

The answer was yes, but that didn’t mean this was something that was advisable right now. “Harry…I don’t know…I don’t think this is a good idea…” Even though Draco wanted it desperately.

“Please, Draco…I just need to feel. Need you…” His fingers traced the side of Draco’s face, making Draco’s breath catch, his eyes closing involuntarily.

It was the words that made the decision for him. He nodded. “Yes.” Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry’s, moaning when Harry pulled him close and took over the kiss, pushing him back against the arm rest.

Whatever Draco had been expecting for their first time, it hadn’t been this—alone in his rooms because Harry had lost one of the foundations of his life, tears still drying on Harry’s face. But Draco was determined to let them both forget that fact—for an hour or two, at least.

Draco wasn’t certain where Harry’s sudden confidence had come from—only that it was overwhelming and addictive, and Draco never wanted him to stop. “Harry…” he breathed.

Harry’s answer was to kiss him deeper, his fingers fumbling with their clothes. Draco did his best to help, returning kiss for kiss.

After years of dreams, Harry’s hands on his skin was enough to have Draco trembling as though this were his first time. “Harry…”

Harry still stayed quiet, catching him in another kiss, then began to nip his way down Draco’s chest.

It was enough to bring Draco close to tears. It wasn’t fair. He wanted this moment to be perfect. For Harry to fall madly in love with him as they made slow and powerful love together. To tell him he would never let him go again. “Harry…please…”

“Shh…just…please, Draco…” Harry kissed him again, and Draco couldn’t stop himself from responding, his arms wrapping tight around Harry as they ground together.

He might not have wanted it like this, but he needed it too much to push him away. “Just don’t stop,” he whispered.

Harry shook his head, then settled between Draco’s legs. “Want this too much.” He kissed Draco again, then began to cast the spells needed to prepare Draco.

Draco threaded his fingers into Harry’s hair, pulling him into a deep kiss, his legs twining around his hips. “Take me, then,” he whispered against Harry’s lips.

Harry’s groan reverberated through Draco’s skin, and he felt Harry’s fingers grip at his hips to tilt them. The thrust stole Draco’s breath, the burn more pleasurable than the sweetest kiss. “Harry…” Draco shifted against him to try to get him deeper. “Yesss…”

“Draco…” Harry kissed him deeper, then pulled back and began to thrust hard into him.

“Ah! Fuck…” Draco clutched at his arms, moving with him, pulling Harry deeper into him. “Yes…don’t stop…” It felt even better than he had expected, and Draco never wanted it to end.

Harry kissed him again, grinding into him before thrusting harder into him. “Fuck…so tight, Draco…” He reached between them, and curled his fingers around Draco’s cock, stroking him in time with his thrusts.

“Oh…god…Harry…” Draco clenched around him, clinging to him as Harry continued to stroke him. The thrusts were close to driving Draco mad, and he knew it wouldn’t take long. “Oh, yess…” He let his head fall back, and felt Harry’s lips trace the lines of his neck. It was all so good.

It was almost unreal, and Draco opened his eyes. He’d wanted this for so long, and now they were here together, and it was too much, and Draco was coming with a sharp cry, clenching tight around Harry, clinging to him as his body shook with his orgasm.

Harry kept thrusting several times more before thrusting deep into Draco, then stilling, his head dropping his forehead to Draco’s shoulder as he recovered. “Mmm…”

“Starting without me?”

Harry and Draco both jumped at the voice, then Draco scowled and glared up at Blaise, who was standing against the door, watching them with a smirk.

Harry pulled away, his cheeks pink, then turned to look at Blaise. “Hey, Blaise.”

Blaise’s expression softened, and he moved to the sofa they were sprawled across. “How are you doing?” he asked softly. “How can I help?”

“He’s doing just fine,” Draco said, still scowling. His tone was just as soft, though, and he slid an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “Did it help?” he asked softly.

“A little,” Harry said, smiling softly. “Helped me forget for a bit, at least.” He leaned into the embrace, then turned back to Blaise. “It just…hurts.”

Blaise nodded. “Well…whatever you need, Draco and I are here for you.”

Draco scowled. He hardly needed Blaise telling Harry that. He could do that all on his own. “You can stay here as long as you need,” he said, glowering at Blaise once more.

“You mean that?” Harry asked.

“Of course. Father would say no different. Have you eaten?”

Harry shook his head. “Not hungry.”

“Draco’s right, Harry. You should have a little something. Tea and toast, at least.”

“Fine,” Harry said. “Tea and toast then. And then…” He glanced between the two of them. “Maybe more sex?”

Draco felt his cheeks heat, then glanced at Blaise. “If…that’s what you want.”

Blaise met his eyes, then nodded. “And if Draco’s willing to share.”

Harry turned to meet Draco’s eyes. “Please, Draco? I just…need to be close. To both of you.”

Draco looked between Blaise and Harry, then sighed. This wasn’t for him, and he knew it. This was about making Harry feel better. Well enough to function despite what had happened. If he could do that, then it would be worth it. “Of course, Harry. If it’s really what you want.”

Blaise smiled. “Why don’t we order a tray to be sent to Draco’s room—so that we can be a bit more comfortable.”

Draco nodded. “More room.” He stood, then held out his hand out to Harry, and together, the three moved off into Draco’s bedroom, where the two friends spent the rest of the night pressed up against Harry, pleasing and distracting him as much as they could manage.

~ * ~

The next few weeks were a blur for Harry. Between spending time at the Manor, spending time with Hermione, and working, there was no free time to just stop and think about everything that had happened.

Then there was the need to find out what had happened. Harry had never been someone who could just sit back and let others deal with things. He had to know why Ron had been the one to die.

Unfortunately, the time he spent at work was overloaded with reports of what had happened that day, but no new facts that he hadn’t learned within the first day after Ron’s death. It was driving him nuts. Every time he tried to make some headway on what had happened, someone distracted him with another pile of files to look through, or set of parchments to sign.

Finally, Harry managed to put Hermione off for a night, making sure she wasn’t alone, then stayed late looking through the reports of the attack. None of the attackers had been caught that day, so all they had was descriptions of each of the attackers, and the description of the order of events, which made Harry look quite bad when he started looking into it.

It was more than just the fact that he shouldn’t have left the scene of the attack. There was the fact that all the others had heard the Minister try to call him back, and their reaction to the fact that Harry had ignored her completely. Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t asked anyone to go with him to check out the hall.

If Harry had been reading the reports about anyone else, he’d have put them on administrative leave for the duration of the investigation. What Harry couldn’t understand was why no one was calling for him to do the same.

Of course, it was probably because of who he was. Even now, being the Boy Who Lived gave him a lot of extra leeway no one else received. And for once, Harry couldn’t let it bother him. Not if it meant he had the leeway to find out who had killed his best friend. And he would. No matter what it took.

Each night, Harry stayed late to look into the events of the attack. He hit one dead end after another, and with every dead end, his anger at what had happened grew. There seemed no way to track down the people who had done this. And Harry refused to accept that as an answer. He couldn’t let Ron have died in vain.

When he ran out of possible leads to follow—not that he’d found many to begin with—Harry decided to come at things from a different angle. Why had Ron been there that day? It had been a small detail of five Aurors including Harry himself. Why had Ron been one of them? Granted, he and Harry had always made a good team, but that had never stopped the higher-ups from splitting them up to keep them more focused on their tasks. So why had Harry and Ron both been assigned to the Minister’s guard detail this time?

Harry had a harder time finding the paperwork detailing the choice of Aurors. He was beginning to wonder if he would find any accessible paperwork on it at all, and had started to consider going to outside contacts for help when he found a sheet detailing the choice.

It was amazing, how much a simple list could affect him so strongly. From focusing on the loss of his best friend to anger in one reading—all the list was was a list of those Aurors closest to Harry. As though this trip had been focused specifically on affecting Harry. Anyone else reading the list wouldn’t have noticed, at least not in the way Harry did—every single one of the possibles were Aurors Harry had either trained with, partnered with, or trained himself. Harry had been so focused on spending time with Ron that weekend that he hadn’t even noticed who else had been in attendance. No wonder no one had blamed him for the events—they were all his friends!

If there was one thing to guarantee Harry’s ire, it was someone treating him “special.” He’d hated it as a kid, and he hated it even more now as an adult. And to be treated that way as an Auror was enough to make him furious.

Harry’s search for those responsible took a new angle after that. No longer did he bother looking for the ones who had led the attack. Now he focused in on those who had been responsible—and, at the top of his list was the Minister. He couldn’t be sure she was involved, but why else would she have insisted on both Harry and Ron being there that day, and surrounding Harry with those most loyal to him?

The problem is, how was he going to be able to convince anyone else of what he believed? When it had just been his dislike of the new Minister, no one had believed him then. If he were to go after her in this, there would be no one who would support him in this.

So who could he go to who would listen? The answer was obvious when it came to him, but he’d been so used to discounting the Malfoys before now that it just wasn’t one of those things he was used to thinking about.

Still…he had to try others first, didn’t he? And the first person to come to mind was the only one who really mattered right now. Hermione.

~ * ~

Hermione’s life was falling apart. Losing Ron had been bad enough. Listening to Ginny bad-mouth Harry wasn’t helping, either. But to see Harry go after the Minister the way he seemed dead-set on doing was more than Hermione could handle. Especially when Harry asked her to help.

All she could do was hope she could calm him down. “No. Harry…she was the target of the attack…”

Her words fell on deaf ears. Harry was too intent on being right about the Minister. “Then why was she so insistent on this group of Aurors, Hermione?”

“What does her choice of Aurors have to do with anything, Harry?”

He turned burning, red-rimmed eyes on her. “They’re all my friends!”

Hermione shook her head. She knew he was having a hard time about this, but it sounded to her like Harry had gone over the deep end. “Harry…you know all the other Aurors, of course they’re all your friends!”

“That’s not what I mean, Hermione! She purposefully chose Aurors who meant the most to me. She’s targeting me!”

Hermione sighed and turned away. Harry hadn’t liked the Minister from day one. Still, she had hoped he might get past it eventually. The Minister had done so much for Muggleborns. “Harry, you have to let this go. I’m sure it’s not what you think.”

“Damn it, Hermione, don’t you see? I don’t know how or why, but she did this! She caused Ron’s death!”

“You don’t know that, Harry,” Hermione said, turning to glare at him and hugging herself. It couldn’t be. If her government had caused Ron’s death…no. It wasn’t something she could even consider. “It’s not possible!”

“It is! You’re so certain that anyone who’s in a position of power could never hurt anyone! It’s happened! I don’t know why she’s done this, but she has! And I won’t let her get away with it!”

“Harry…I know you miss him.” Her voice broke as Ron’s grin filled her memory. “I miss him, too. But this won’t help. Going after her will only cause you more problems.”

“What do I care if it causes her problems?”

“Not her! You! Harry…you can’t keep this up!”

Harry’s expression went cold. “I thought you’d understand. I thought you missed him. But if you’re just going to let her get away with this…”

“You think I don’t miss him?” Hermione felt as though Harry’d slapped her, and tears sprang to her eyes. “I miss him every fucking day! I miss seeing him and hearing him, and picking up after him…”

His eyes went wide. “Hermione…” He reached out to take her hand.

She pulled away. “No. Just go, Harry. I…need to calm down. Before I say something I regret.”

“Hermione…”

Hermione looked away, shutting her eyes. She just couldn’t face him right now.

~ * ~

The argument with Hermione left Harry feeling adrift, and he began to spend most of his time when not at work with Draco or Blaise at the Manor, or with George at the shop. George talked things out with him, and Harry was relieved that George seemed to feel Ron’s assignment was suspicious as well.

Unfortunately, any further headway had been almost impossible to make. Harry had considered going to the Minister with his proof, but he knew he didn’t have enough to prove his allegations. So he was just going to have to wait to see what else he could come up with. There had to be proof out there somewhere.

One of his visits with George led to a new idea of where to look when Luna stopped by for a visit. She was quick to agree that the new Minister was dangerous, though Harry did his best to ignore her usual conspiracy theories. Still, he was surprised at how quick she was to agree to him. Apparently, the Quibbler had received a number of possible articles about the Minister’s duplicitous ways. Normally Harry would take the stories with a grain of salt, but upon hearing some of the stories, Harry was pleased to hear that he was not the only one who had had troubles with the Minister. Now he just had to find a way to bring her down.

Before he could manage anything more than initial plans to discredit and humiliate her, though, he discovered that his plotting had not gone unnoticed. He received an owl one evening that firmed his resolve to do everything in his power to remove the woman from office.

The parchment itself was unremarkable, but when he opened the missive, he felt almost dizzy when he realized what it was.

> Nothing good can come of your investigation into the incident in Paris. If you do not cease looking into it, you may well suffer further losses. Your family is already so small. It would be terrible for you to lose more of those you are close to. Your godson and his grandmother are particularly vulnerable, are they not? For their sake, you would do well to let this go.

The note pushed him into action, hurrying to Andromeda’s home to check on her and Teddy.

She was startled to see him. “Harry? What’s wrong? No one else has died, have they?”

He smiled, relieved to see her well. “No. No one else.” His mind supplied the ‘yet,’ though he didn’t say it out loud. “How is Teddy?”

Andromeda smiled. “He’s quite good. I’m sure he’d love to see you.” She stepped aside so that Harry could enter. “He’s always thrilled to see you.”

“I’d like that. It’s been a hard few months.”

She nodded sadly. “I was very sorry to hear about Ronald. I know how fond you were of him.”

The reminder was almost enough to make Harry forget the threat. But the Auror in him couldn’t let that happen. “Thank you. The…investigation is still going on. That’s actually why I’m here. I received a threat.”

“You? But surely the Ministry would be able to protect you…”

“Not to me. To…those I care most about.”

“Ginny?” Andromeda asked, looking horrified.

Harry shook his head. He hadn’t even considered her. But then, he tended to stay away from her these days, and the note he’d received had been very specific. “To you. And Teddy.”

Andromeda paled. “Us…but…we’re a threat to no one…” She looked away. “Not again…” She closed her eyes, and Harry moved closer to her to squeeze her shoulder. The loss of both her husband and daughter during the last war had been hard on her. Teddy had been the only thing to keep her going.

“I’m so sorry, Andromeda. It’s because you’re so important to me. But…I thought…perhaps you could go live with your sister until the threat is neutralized?”

“Narcissa? But…what about Lucius? I’m sure he won’t want a child running through the halls…”

“Let me deal with him. The Manor’s defenses, and the fact that there are others there who can watch over you both would put me at ease. Consider it, at least?”

“If you can convince Lucius…then yes. It is likely for the best. And Narcissa and I will have more time to catch up with each other.” He could see that she was searching for positives in the situation. It was a good sign.

“I’ll talk to him tonight, then.”

She smiled. “Come on. Why don’t we go see what Teddy’s gotten up to? He’ll be thrilled to see you.”

~ * ~

Having a child in the Manor was strange. After all, there hadn’t been one there since Draco himself had been small. As he had only ever spent time with Teddy when Harry was around, Draco was simply unprepared to deal with Teddy on a one-on-one basis so much. Particularly when Teddy took a liking to him, and was constantly seeking him out, appearing in the oddest places Draco went to try to be alone.

On the other hand, having his aunt and cousin here meant that Harry visited even more than before. To the point where Narcissa had even put a room aside just for him to stay in on the nights he didn’t want to go home.

It was a simple thing to sneak into Harry’s bedroom those nights, all jealous thoughts forgotten when he had Harry to himself like that. Some nights were spent talking more than not, but most were spent exploring each others’ bodies eagerly.

Some nights, Blaise joined them, and now that he’d had more time with Harry on his own, Draco could relax and enjoy being with both of them. Maybe his father had had the right of this after all?

Harry continued visiting frequently, and the two or sometimes all three of them often took Teddy flying, or for long walks in the Malfoy gardens while his mother and aunt talked. Draco couldn’t help thinking this was how things were supposed to be.

It was that thought that prompted Draco to suggest to his father that they make the situation more permanent.

“He’s here almost every night as it is. Why don’t we just offer him a more permanent place here?”

“Do you think he would accept it?” Lucius asked, obviously pleased at the idea.

“I do. I mean…he comes here all the time anyway. Especially now that Teddy is here. And we all get on with him so well now…”

Lucius nodded, smiling. “Do you wish to ask him, or do you think he would accept it better coming from me?”

Draco grinned. He had worried Lucius might not like the idea. “I’ll ask him. Thank you, father.”

“Do let me know what his response is. It would not do to keep this from your mother, after all…”

Draco nodded, pleased. “I will, father.” He hurried back to his own study, then sent Harry an owl, asking if he would be visiting that night.

Harry’s response came back quickly that he would love to see Draco tonight.

Draco grinned at the letter, then took time to prepare himself before settling to wait for Harry to arrive.

~ * ~

The offer was completely unexpected, and it took Harry a few days to think it over before he realized Draco was right. He was there almost every night now, and he felt safer there than anywhere, even the Burrow.

Though he decided to accept the offer, Harry kept his flat in London. He spent most nights at the Manor, but every so often, a late night would keep him in town, and then he used the flat as a place to crash.

It was also a good place to keep all his notes about the Minister. He trusted the Malfoys well enough, but something told him that this vendetta was better handled on his own.

Outside of his search for proof against the Minister, most of his time was spent relaxing with Draco, Blaise, or George. He promised himself that as soon as he had solid proof against the Minister, he would apologize to Hermione for fighting with her. But she wouldn’t believe him until he had something solid, so he had to keep searching.

Instead, his time was spent at the clubs with Draco and Blaise, or at George’s shop, when he wasn’t at the Manor.

Now that he had no one to answer to relationship-wise, Harry found himself seeking out other partners. At the club especially, but there was one memorable night when he’d found himself in George’s bed. He was glad to realize that George was almost nothing like his sister, even beyond the difference in gender.

Where Ginny had always been reluctant or hesitant, George was not only confident, but hungry to touch, taste, and take. Harry was quick to ignore the whispered name when George came. It was unsurprising, once he thought of it. The twins had always been so close, after all.

Once they had recovered, George tried to apologize. “Sorry…”

Harry shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize, George. Really.”

“Yeah, well…you deserve to know…”

“I know you and Fred were closer than almost anyone else I know. It’s okay. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”

George looked away. He was silent for a few minutes, then he answered anyway, though Harry had expected nothing further. “Like half of you is just…gone. It’s…” He sighed, then turned away from Harry. “I keep hoping I’ll find a way to bring him back,” he said softly.

“Bring him back? I thought necromancy only managed inferii…” The thought should have been horrifying, but in this context, Harry found that he could understand George’s need to have his twin back. If he’d had a chance to bring Ron back, he’d have done it in a moment.

George nodded. “Yeah. That’s all I’ve managed to find so far.”

“That’s why you wanted to go to the Manor, isn’t it? To see what the Malfoys had in their library that might help?”

“Knew it would be a long shot. Since I couldn’t come out and ask…but I had to try.”

“Would you like me to ask Lucius if he has a more…private collection?”

“Would he tell you if he did?” Harry could see that George was trying not to hope.

“Couldn’t hurt to ask, right? Besides…I’ve been thinking about asking if he has ways to track down the people who…attacked us in Paris.” Ron’s name echoed in the room almost as loud as Fred’s had when George had whispered it earlier.

“You’re actually going to use his connections?”

“At this point, I have no other leads. And I know he’d be willing to help if I asked.” He’d avoided doing so before now. He knew Lucius would likely be thrilled to help him, but the thought of asking a former Death Eater for help in a Ministry matter had seemed wrong. But at this point, Harry was beginning to feel that he had nothing left to lose. And if Lucius were able to help, why shouldn’t he?

“Do you really think he’d be willing to help me, though? I mean…I know you’ve gotten close to the Malfoys, but…they hate us Weasleys still…”

“It can’t hurt to ask, right? And he knows you’re my friend.” It was a little disturbing, when Harry let himself think much about it, so he shook his head to dispel any worries, then smiled at George. “Besides…having Fred back…that would make up for some of what he’s done to your family in the past, now, wouldn’t it?” And if it worked…maybe, just maybe, Hermione could have Ron back, too.

George looked uncertain at first, but then he smiled. “Yeah. It would, wouldn’t it?”

~ * ~

When Harry came to ask for help finally, it was all Lucius could do to contain the surge of victory. And the requests made his success that much sweeter.

“Of course I will do anything I can to help you, Harry. I will put all my people on finding information for you. As for my private collection…Is there something specific you might be looking for?” He knew Harry’s question had been meant to sound off-hand, but it was obvious that it was important to the boy. It might be possible that he was trying to find something on him to take him in to the Ministry, but something told him it was a sincere question. And if Harry wanted access to his Dark spellbooks, his war was nearly won.

“My friend George…he’s doing research. I thought…maybe you might have books on the subject that you might not want where just anyone could read them?”

“I may have something that would help him. What subject is it that he is interested in?”

Harry made a face, obviously debating with himself. “Spells to help those who have passed…cross back.”

It was more than Lucius had expected, but he did his best to keep his shock from his face. “I…may have some books on the subject. I would ask that he come here to look at them, though. The magic in those books is dangerous at best. At worst…” Even Lucius would hesitate to use many of the spells in those books.

Harry nodded. “I can imagine. I’ve seen some dark spell books. I know how horrifying they can get.”

“I assure you, Harry, you have seen nothing approaching these books. But I will help him. If that is what you wish.”

“Help him? If you can.”

“I will do my best, Harry. And I will send you any information that my people as soon as they find it.” The proof against the Minister would be easily found. Lucius had been holding onto it in hopes that Harry would come to him sooner or later. And now, the chance had come. Now all he had to do was wait long enough for his people to “discover” the proof, then send it to Harry…and everything would fall into place.

~ * ~

After that, all Harry could do was wait. His own searching had turned up nothing new. The Aurors had been reorganized, and Harry had been placed on desk duty “until such time as enough time has passed from your loss.” He’d been fine with the idea at first because it had meant that he could do more research on the Minister and the investigation itself, but now, with nothing more to do, Harry found himself restless.

He kept expecting Ron to appear in his door, and the few sightings he’d had of Hermione, she’d turned away from him and hurried off the other way the moment she’d seen him. His only solace was being able to go to the Manor each night and lose himself in Draco or Blaise, or to drag them out to a club and find someone else for the night. It almost helped.

The only Weasley he saw with any regularity any longer was George. The others weren’t so much avoiding him as lost in their own grief over losing Ron.

He knew that Ginny was still angry with him, though it was all muddled up in their arguments as a couple and their breakup, but also included Ron’s death. How was he supposed to approach her after all that?

He also had the feeling that many of the Weasleys felt a bit awkward about both events, especially that they’d happened so close together, and weren’t sure how to approach him any longer. Harry couldn’t really blame them.

When Lucius finally sent him the location of those who had taken part in the attack that day, all thought of friends or Weasleys had gone completely from his mind. The only ones who knew where he went that night were George, Draco, and Lucius. He’d asked them all to keep away, but to let others know if he did not return. He wanted to handle this alone. He wanted to finally have his proof against the Minister for once and for all.

He found the five men in a small flat in the center of London, not too far from the Ministry. He used surveillance spells as well as a few of George’s latest tricks to listen in on their conversation. When he heard nothing of use after almost an hour, he switched tacks and waited for one to leave the flat to follow them and take them by surprise.

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait for one to leave the flat to go get them all takeout for the evening. Harry followed close behind, and was able to slip into the flat behind him when he returned, glad for his invisibility cloak. The men descended on the food, entirely oblivious to Harry’s presence in the flat.

Though Lucius had assured him these were the men who had done the deed, and Harry could see that these were obviously temporary living conditions, he still had no proof these were the ones. It was frustrating, and Harry was close to casting stronger spells to get what he wanted, when finally one of the men whined about the flat. Harry stilled in the process of pulling his wand free of his belt to listen.

“…How much longer she expects us to stay here?”

“You heard the last call. Until the investigation has been satisfactorily concluded to her satisfaction. If they were to find us, they could easily trace things back to her. You know that.”

Harry felt a thrill go through him. They had to mean the Minister, didn’t they?

“I would think keeping us all together like this is far more incriminating, personally. I mean, two of us together might pass muster, but five?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we can tell them no, is it? I mean…if we tried to go against them…” The one speaking opened an ale, then began to eat his supper.

For Harry, it was more than enough. He’d get them to confess, and then he’d be able to bring down the Minister easily. And if they didn’t confess…. The memory of Ron on the floor, the blank look on his face, was enough to firm Harry’s resolve.

He quickly enchanted a binding spell, then pulled off his cloak, smirking at the horrified looks on his captives’ faces.

“Please…Don’t let me interrupt. What was that you were saying about guilt?”

The men all glanced quickly at each other, then one met Harry’s eyes. “Not sure what you mean. How did you get in?”

“Don’t think much of me, do you?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed. “You knew you’d be found sooner or later. Didn’t you consider it might be me?”

The man was silent for a moment, obviously debating his answer. “And you are…?”

Harry’d forgotten the surge of power that anger could give him. At the man’s words, the lights in the flat burned bright, several blowing out in the process. “I am the man who is going to make sure you pay for killing his best friend,” he said in a low voice.

“K-killing?” the man stuttered. “Wh-what do you mean? Who…?”

“Ron Weasley. The one that died because of you cowardly worms!” The lights flared again, and he pointed his wand at the one speaking. “Which of you did it?”

The man’s eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed, and his chin raised. “What? You’re going to beat us all with a stick?”

The attempt at a fake-out didn’t fool Harry in the least. He could hear the tremor in the man’s voice. “I know more spells than you’ve forgotten. Shall I demonstrate?”

“What are you, some sort of…Magician?”

“Let’s not play games, shall we?” Harry asked, his voice dangerous now. He pointed his wand at the man’s leg and cast the Sectusempra spell across it, cutting a gash across it. The man screamed, and Harry smiled grimly. “Now…let’s try this again. This time without the pretense, shall we?”

The man met his eyes, his own pain-glazed. “I didn’t…was…the look out.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. So…which of your friends did it, then?”

Though he remained silent, Harry saw the man glance to one side before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “What are you going to do to him?”

Harry cast a silent Crucio on him, but only for a moment. “That is for trying to protect him.” Harry turned to the man on his right, the direction he’d glanced. The man’s face was white as he stared at his friend, who lay on his back, pale and panting from the after-effects of the spell.

“Was it a thrill?” he asked the new man, whose eyes snapped up to meet his, wide and terrified.

“No! I just…no…please!”

“He had no chance to beg. Why should I care?”

“But…you’re…”

“I’m through with people who think they can manipulate me. And you’re going to be my example.”

“No! No…please!” The man tried to squirm back, but his bonds were too tight.

“Too late.” Harry focused on his anger. He’d never wanted to use the spell more than he did now, but leaving little to no proof would be important. The Muggles would just think it a random crime, and the magical community would be no wiser. “Avada Kedavra,” he said, his voice shaking as he focused on the image of Ron, dead on the floor.

The room filled with green light, and before any of the men could protest, their comrade was dead on the floor, his eyes as blank as Ron’s had been. Feeling the anger swell higher inside him, he turned back to the first.

The man looked ill, but Harry couldn’t find it in himself to care if it was from seeing what he’d done, or worrying what would happen to the rest of them, or from blood loss. “Tell me who hired you.”

The man swallowed. “I don’t…” He cried out as Harry used Sectusempra again. “I don’t know! I don’t know his name!”

“His? How old? How did he contact you?” Harry moved closer, meeting the man’s eyes.

“He…pub. Approached me. Never told me his name. Please…it was just a job. I didn’t…”

This time Harry hit him with the back of his hand. It was incredibly satisfying to see the man’s head snap back. “Don’t lie! You knew you were being sent to hurt. You had to know the chances that someone would die were high.”

“We didn’t! I swear! They just told us to injure! I don’t know why Simons did it!”

“No? Then it’s too bad you didn’t stop him, isn’t it?” Harry cast the killing curse again, amazed at how easily it came the second time, then turned to the others. One was whispering something to himself, eyes squeezed shut. Harry growled, then cast a Sectusempra at him, causing the words to be swallowed by a sharp scream, then silence. Harry glowered at the other two who remained untouched.

“Tell me, and I might let you go. Withhold the names, and you will die like your friends.”

One shook his head even before he opened his mouth, and Harry hit him with a Crucio before glancing at the other. “And you? Helpful, or dead?”

The man looked pale and green with terror. “I’d tell you if I could!” He cowered, shouting before Harry could throw a spell. “All I know is that the Minister’s banquet was to be interrupted as best we could!”

That sounded wrong, so Harry held back. “And the Minister? Was she the target?”

The man looked up and met Harry’s gaze. “No. We weren’t to touch her. Or you. Anyone else was…” The man choked out the last two words. “Fair game.”

“Fair game.” This time he didn’t have to push to cast the spell at all, and the words dripped from his lips like venom. “Avada Kedavra.” The man flew back with the force of the blow, and before he had even landed, staring wide-eyed up at the ceiling, Harry had turned to kill the last of the men.

He was running toward the door. How he had managed to get to his feet, Harry didn’t know, but he decided to use him as his scapegoat. “Imperio!”

The man stopped abruptly like a puppet, then slowly moved toward Harry, walking jerkily back to where his friends lay.

Harry removed his bindings. “Where is your wand?” he asked him.

He blinked at Harry for a moment, then reached into his pocket, pulling it out.

Harry smiled, then had the man copy the spells he’d used on his friends with his own wand. Once that had been accomplished, Harry took it from him. “Lie down.” Harry could see a flash of terror cross the blank face, and tightened his hold on the man, watching as he lay down. Once the man was laying down, Harry cast a slashing spell across the man’s chest. It wouldn’t kill him immediately, but it would be enough to kill him before someone found him. Done, he placed the wand in the man’s hand, then cast a find-me-not spell on the building. It would wear off in twelve hours, and when the people who had hired them came looking, it would already be too late.

Done with his bloody deed, Harry apparated away to his flat, adrenaline flooding him. He needed…something. But the thought of going to the Manor felt wrong, somehow. Finally, he decided the best way to work it off would be to go to the club. He’d never gone on his own before, but what better time to start?

He spent the rest of the night flirting with and snogging random blokes, then Apparated back to his flat sometime near dawn and fell fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had changed. It was something Draco couldn’t quite define. Just a sharper edge, somehow. He also seemed more inclined to take what he wanted, not caring if Draco got what he wanted these days. Draco didn’t know if he liked the difference.

Lucius seemed pleased by the change, though. And that made Draco even more leery. Obviously Harry had done something that Lucius had been carefully leading him towards. And whatever that was, it couldn’t be good.

There had been a string of nights where Harry had been away from the Manor, and when he had returned, he had been—there really was no other way to describe it—darker. He knew that he had visited Hermione once more, and that they had had another row, though he had not spoken of the details. He also knew Harry had quit the Ministry, no reason given. The Prophet had been bleating about it ever since.

Instead of going off to work, Harry had been spending time with Teddy, teaching him to fly, or with George, closeted away in the study Lucius had provided him with. Occasionally with Luna as well. And soon, others of his friends began to visit as well. Draco only recognized a few of them by name—the younger of the Creevy brothers (hadn’t his brother died in the war?), and Smith of Hufflepuff. Draco tended to stay away from these meetings, waiting for Harry to come to him when he wanted to see him. Something about this just felt all wrong.

But then Harry would come to him at night, and Draco would hold him close. He could convince himself that it would all be all right. Harry was still mourning Weasley’s death. That was all. He just had to let him recover as he needed. Things would get better soon.

And then the Minister went into hiding, and it all got worse.

~ * ~

Hermione had not only not believed Harry that the Minister had planned Ron’s death, but when she had heard about the men who had been found murdered, she had had the gall to ask Harry if he’d known anything about it. It was the final straw for their failing friendship.

Leaving his position at the Ministry was far simpler. The job had been dragging Harry down for years, but being anywhere near the Minister these days made him ill. He had enough money to live comfortably. Especially now that he was living full-time at the Manor. There simply was no reason to work. And being nearer Draco and his father, not to mention Teddy…why should he bother with others?

Hearing that Harry had quit, others began to seek him out at the Manor. George was the first, of course, and occasionally Luna would join them. When George mentioned that others were asking about him, he suggested George direct them to the Manor if they asked for a chance to speak to him. Harry was quick to speak to Lucius as soon as George left, and Lucius was pleased to give him a study to meet with any friends who might come to visit.

Between visits with friends and spending time with Draco and Blaise, his attempts to deal with the Minister stalled. It took a new article in the Prophet to get him moving once more. The article mentioned that the Minister had been receiving threats, and had her guard detail increased, and would be going into seclusion until those responsible could be tracked down.

It was enough to start Harry thinking about what to do once more. He knew she was somehow behind the attack. He wasn’t sure why she had done it, but it had resulted in Ron’s death, and Harry wanted to make sure she paid for that.

After reading through the article several times, Harry decided that the best way to handle things was to ask Lucius his opinion. He was finding himself rather startled how often he was relying on Lucius’s advice or help. He had expected Lucius to be far more standoffish than he truly was, but it felt as though Ron’s death had somehow made him more protective of Harry. In some ways, Harry almost felt as though Lucius had taken on a fatherly role, and he found himself rather pleased to have that support.

When Harry knocked on the door of Lucius’s study, Lucius was settled in his chair, reading the very same article. “Harry. I was just thinking of you…” He smirked, and Harry couldn’t help smile back.

“I can imagine. What do you think? Is she hiding from me?”

“It very well may be.” He nodded towards the chair across from him. “Come sit.”

Harry settled into the chair. “She’s guilty, Lucius. Why does no one see it?”

“She is the Minister. People will forgive them much. As you well know, people see them as infallible. No matter how much she does wrong, they will see her only as their leader, and therefore right.”

The reminder of fifth year made Harry scowl. “I don’t understand how they can’t see what she’s done. She’s dangerous! And what happened with Ron…” He sighed.

“Except few will believe she was behind that attack, Harry. And that means that they will assume you are simply wrong in your assumptions about her at best, or that you are a lunatic at worst. We need to find another way to deal with her.”

“We?” Harry looked up at him, startled.

“If you will accept my help.”

“Of course.” The rush of gratitude was almost overwhelming. “Thank you.”

“I am glad I can be of help to you, Harry.”

“So…what should we do, then?”

“Well, it would probably be best to see if we can get to her. Confront her and tell her we know she has been involved in what happened.”

“But how do we find her if she’s in hiding?”

“Perhaps one of your friends would know?”

“Maybe…” Harry frowned. His friends seemed to have split down the middle. There were those who sided with Hermione and the Weasleys, and those who had sought him out after he had quit. The question was, would any of those who he had contact with know where she might be?

“I doubt it would be a good idea to ask your former colleagues. Is there anyone else you could ask?”

The first people to come to mind were the members of the Order. The question was, would any of them talk to him now? And if so, would they even know? It made him wish Kingsley were still in England.

“I’ll have to ask around, I guess,” Harry said softly.

~ * ~

A few days later, sitting on the porch of his beach house in Barbados, Kingsley read a letter he had received by long-distance albatross.

> Kingsley,
> 
> I hope this missive finds you well.
> 
> We know that you have earned your retirement, but I am afraid that we need your help. I am uncertain if you have been keeping up with the news from England, but Harry’s vendetta against the Minister has been causing issues. To the point where we have decided to gather the remaining Order members once more, simply to be on hand to help him find his way.
> 
> We wish to help him, but the help he seems to want to receive is leading him down a very dangerous path, and we worry where this will all lead him.
> 
> Please consider returning to help us. I think if you were here, you might be able to pull him back from this path before it destroys him utterly.
> 
> We hope to see you soon,  
>  Fondest wishes,  
>  Hermione

It was an alarming letter to read.

Any other reason would have had him sending his regrets, but after reading Hermione’s letter, he knew that he could not refuse.

He jotted down a note and sent it off.

> Hermione,
> 
> I have received your note, and will return to England on the first available Portkey.
> 
> Please take care, and I will see you soon.
> 
> Kingsley

Once the letter was sent, Kingsley went inside and began to pack. He hated leaving, but the place had waited this long. Surely it could wait another month or two. And the few months he’d had here had helped him relax immensely. He almost felt like his old self now. Harry was worth going back to England for a short visit.

He closed up the house carefully, sending a few quick pigeons out to friends and family about where he was going, then made his way to get himself a Portkey back to London.

~ * ~

Tracking down the Minister took more time than Harry had expected. Harry’d followed several false leads before he managed to find out where she was located.

The problem was trying to decide how to approach her, and what he was going to do when he did. He was hardly likely to get her to admit her wrong-doing, no matter what he did. And the point of all this was to prove her guilt.

Finally, Harry decided that all he could do was approach her and see who was guarding her, then work from there. He had to face her at least once to be sure he was right.

Lucius’s contacts were working to find her, but it felt like they were taking forever, and Harry was desperate to be done with this so that he could finally move on with his life. Finally, he and a few of his friends began to take turns watching Hermione’s flat in hopes that she might lead them to the Minister.

It took several days before Hermione led them to a small cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, but as soon as he saw the place, he knew it was what he had been waiting for. Bill was standing outside as Hermione approached, and Harry watched, eyes narrowed, as they talked for a moment.

His eyes widened as Kingsley appeared in the doorway, and he felt a spear of betrayal at the sight. Kingsley was protecting her? How could he do such a thing? Harry felt his anger flare, and it was all he could do not to storm the cottage and attack the three of them.

Luckily Zach, who had joined him in following Hermione that evening, took that moment to ask Harry what his next move would be.

“Back to the Manor. I need to decide how to handle this.”

“But what if they move her again?”

Harry shot him a look. “Then I will find their new hiding place. Now we know, it shouldn’t be too hard to find her. I know many of the places they’re likely to use.” The Burrow, for one. Hogwarts, if things got desperate. But no matter where they hid her, he would find them.

The two of them Apparated away, and Harry made his way to Lucius’s study. He needed advice, and Lucius was the only one he knew who could provide it. “They’re guarding her, he said as he entered the room.

Lucius looked up at him. “The Order?”

“Yes.” He moved to stand in front of Lucius’s desk. “I don’t…I can’t believe they’re doing this to me. To Ron! Why can’t they understand?”

“They do not wish it to be true. It is easy to convince themselves that they are right, rather than that they are being led by someone who would do such a thing.”

“I hate them. If they’re going to stand with her, then…they deserve whatever they get.”

Lucius sat back. “So…what will you do?”

Harry smiled, feeling the anger curl inside him. “Show them that they can’t stop me.”

Lucius smiled back. “Do you wish help?”

“I…don’t know. Perhaps it would be best if I went alone, just in case.”

“Very well. Perhaps you should tell me where you are going, just in case?”

Harry sighed, then nodded. “Hogsmeade. Near the Shrieking Shack. If they move her, I will send my Patronus, so that you know.”

“Thank you. I will have someone waiting to help you if needed. And Harry?”

Harry met his eyes. “Yes?”

“Be careful.”

Harry smiled, then nodded. “I’ll be fine. And careful.” He gave Lucius a last smile, then apparated back to the cottage, a curl of satisfaction going through him at the sight of Kingsley standing on the front step, the night cloaking Harry from his view at first.

Kingsley saw him before he made it within the ring of light. His hand tightened on his wand. “Harry.”

“Kingsley. I would have wished you were not here.”

“I would have wished you were not here, Harry. You don’t have to do this.”

“If I don’t, who will, Kingsley? Everyone else seems so certain of her innocence.”

“Are you so sure she is not?”

“Yes. And I will make sure she pays for what she has done.”

“I can’t let you do that, Harry.”

The anger burned higher inside Harry at Kingsley’s words. If he was willing to protect her, he was the enemy, just like the others. “And I won’t let you stop me.” The words were followed by a Cruciatus spell so quickly that Kingsley was unable to counter it, even as he tried to raise his wand. He collapsed to the ground, screaming, his wand falling from limp fingers.

It was too easy, really. Either Kingsley hadn’t believed he would actually attack, or he had lost his edge during his retirement, but either way, it was easy to subdue and bind him. “If you ever change your mind, Kingsley,” he said softly, “do come find me.”

He stepped on the other man’s wand, breaking it in two, just to be sure that he wouldn’t be able to follow after him. Then he stepped into the cottage, and rolled his eyes at what he saw there. Hermione and Neville stood together, facing him and guarding a closed door, behind which Harry assumed the Minister would be.

“Fools. You really think you can stop me? You never gave me enough credit, Hermione…”

“The Harry I knew understood the difference between right and wrong. I don’t know who you are. I’m just glad Ron’s not here to see it.” She looked pale, and Harry was sure he caught her trembling, but her wand didn’t waver as she pointed it at him.

“Leave, Neville. I don’t want to hurt you. But I will if I have to.”

Harry’d seen that look on Neville’s face so many times before. Determined fear. He’d never thought to see it directed at him again. “I can’t let you do it, Harry…”

“You can’t stop me, Neville. Go back to your plants, and leave this to someone who understands what’s truly going on.”

“No! Ron wouldn’t have wanted this, Harry. You can’t…!” Before Neville could finish, Harry’d gagged him with a spell.

“Don’t make me hurt you, Neville…”

Neville’s answer to that was to raise his wand, which Harry sent spinning from his hand. A quick binding spell, and Neville fell to the floor, no longer a threat.

Harry turned back to Hermione. “Get out of the way, Hermione.”

She looked pale, but determined. “No. I won’t let you.”

Growling, Harry aimed his wand at her to disarm her. She shot a stunning spell towards him, but he ducked it easily. “You don’t understand, Hermione. You can’t stop me. She needs to pay for what she’s done.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Harry. I don’t know why you’re so determined to kill her, but it won’t bring him back, Harry! Don’t you understand that?” She tried to disarm him, but missed, then ducked a binding spell from him.

“No, it won’t. But she’ll finally pay for causing it!” And if Hermione couldn’t understand… “Don’t fight me, Hermione. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her face went white, recognizing the threat for what is was. “Harry, please…” He cast a Cruciatus at her before she could finish the plea, and she collapsed to the floor, screaming, Neville adding muffled cries of his own where he lay on the floor.

Harry gave them both a last look before stepping over them and opening the door they had been guarding. A spell shot at him from the corner, but he was ready for it, and ducked, casting a slashing spell towards the dark figure, straightening when he saw them drop. He turned, then smirked when he saw the Minister cowering behind the door. “I see you’ve been waiting for me to show, Minister. I’d think it meant you realized what a mistake you made, but you never admit to mistakes, do you?”

“I never…” She screamed as Harry cast a slashing spell over her arm. He didn’t want to kill her. Not just yet.

“Don’t lie! You wanted me to bond with you when he died, didn’t you? It’s the only thing I can come up with. The only reason you would cause something like that. The only reason he was there at all. Right?” He cast another slashing spell, this time on the other arm, right over her wrist where she was holding her wand uselessly at her side. She screamed, and the wand fell from her fingers.

“No! It wasn’t…”

He cast another slashing spell across her shoulder. “Stop lying!”

She screamed, her voice cracking. “No! Please! Stop!” She curled in on herself, trying to protect herself with her hands as well as she could, despite her wounds. “I didn’t plan it!”

Harry pulled up his wand at that, then pointed it at her. “And why should I believe you?”

She looked up at him, her eyes glazed with pain. “What did I gain from it?”

“Nothing. Because it backfired.”

“For me. He convinced me it would draw you closer to me, yes. But it was never my plan, Harry.”

He cast another slashing spell at her again, and she cried out. “Don’t call me that! You’ve no right!” He took a deep breath to try to calm the rage swirling inside him. “If not you, then who?”

She looked up at him coldly, as though she pitied him, and he itched to hex her once more. But he needed to know. He needed to make his revenge complete. And if there was someone else behind it all…

“Surely you have some idea of who would benefit most from severing you from the Ministry, and from the Weasleys?”

Harry glowered at her. “Say it. If you want me to know, then tell me. I’m through with your games.” His wand pointed towards her face this time.

She swallowed. “Malfoy.”

“What? Why would Draco…”

“Not Draco. Lucius.”

A chill spread through Harry at that. “No.” But he could feel the truth of it, even as he denied it.

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, he channeled all his fury at her. “Avada Kedavera!” She fell backwards, and he turned away, not wanting to see it.

He had to get out of here. Think. He apparated to his flat, feeling suddenly empty. Used. Again. Lucius would have to pay.

~ * ~

When Harry came back to the Manor that night, Draco knew something was wrong. But when Harry took his hand and led him upstairs, then began to make such tender love to him that it nearly brought tears to his eyes, any worry dissipated.

“Harry…”

Rather than answer, Harry kissed him again, smiling. “So lovely. Should never have waited,” he said, making Draco’s heart beat faster.

“No,” he agreed. “I would have been yours the moment you asked.”

Harry smiled at that. “Yes. But you are now, and that is all that matters, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Draco breathed. “Yours.” He kissed Harry deeply, his arms tight around Harry’s neck.

Draco felt Harry’s hand slide down his side as they kissed, and he arched against him.

“And will you let me make you even more mine, Draco?” Harry whispered.

Draco blinked up at him, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me, my Draco?”

The words were everything Draco had always wanted to hear, and he ignored the small part of himself that disliked the tone of Harry’s voice. “Always.”

Harry smirked. “Good boy.” There was a light in his eyes that sent a chill through Draco, but before he could protest, he felt a spell wash through him, and then it was too late.

~ * ~

It had been too easy. Perhaps Draco and Blaise had not been involved in Lucius’s plans, but Harry would treat them well, and this way, they would never betray him again. He returned to the room he’d hidden them in, then summoned an elf.

The thing bowed, and Harry handed it a parchment. “Summon these people to the ballroom. Tell them I expect them to be there within a quarter hour.”

The elf bowed low, then vanished.

Smirking, Harry looked at his two new pets. They truly were beautiful. And he couldn’t wait to see Lucius’s reaction. He was quite sure it would keep the man in line. And if it did not…well…he had other ways of dealing with those who plotted against him.

~ * ~

Lucius did not like being summoned in his own house, but the small crowd that had gathered at Harry’s summons made him frown deeper. They were not only Harry’s little friends from his school club, but also several former Death Eaters who Lucius had known were in hiding. He kept separate from them, not certain yet why they were here, and not wanting to associate with them if it was going to cause him problems. Then there were Narcissa and Andromeda, who seemed deep in concerned conversation and glowering at the Death Eaters, staying as far from them as he could. There was a conversation he didn’t want to enter into at the moment.

Given that Lucius wasn’t about to associate himself with Harry’s little friends, either, and his son was nowhere in sight, that meant he had to find himself a space far enough from all of them that he didn’t look as though he were associating with any of them.

When the doors opened, Lucius was ready to pull Harry aside to give him a piece of his mind. But the Harry who walked into the room was the man who had confronted Voldemort. And yet not. His expression was twisted and cold, and Lucius had to repress a shiver.

But what sent a gasp around the room were the two large cats walking on either side of him. One was a pure black panther, the other the palest puma Lucius had ever seen. Lucius looked quickly around for his son, then back at Harry. He didn’t like this in the least.

Harry smirked at him, then walked to the center of the room, letting the doors slam shut behind him and looked around the room. “Perhaps you are all wondering why I have asked you to come here today. I have decided that I am done being used. You are those I can trust to follow my lead. Either because I know you…” Here he turned to his former schoolmates. A few looked gratified at that, some looked shocked, and a few looked downright ill.

Then Harry turned to the former Death Eaters, who all looked alarmed. “Or because I know how well you follow orders.” And then, Harry turned to look at Lucius, his eyes narrowed, his smirk widening. “Or because I know you would _never_ go against me,” he said in a low, carrying voice. He stroked a hand over the white cat’s head. “Isn’t that right, _Draco_?” he asked it.

The chill down Lucius’s spine turned to a spear of ice. He felt pinned in place even as he took a second look at the cat, which was calmly cleaning itself, ignoring the people in the room. He couldn’t have, could he?

Then the cat, as though feeling his eyes upon it or perhaps in response to it’s master’s question, looked up and met his gaze with shockingly familiar grey eyes. Lucius’s heart sank. He closed his eyes, swallowing the bile in his throat, then dropped to his knees as the others watched, his head bowed. Behind him, he could hear Narcissa’s strangled moan of horror. “Never, _my Lord_ ,” he said, his voice stiff and emotionless as he could manage.

Harry placed his hand on Lucius’s head, and he waited for the final blow to fall. Would it be Cruciatus, or Avada Kedavra? But no spell came. Instead, Harry spoke, and Lucius could hear the smirk in his new Lord’s voice. “Yes, Lucius. I know you won’t.”

 

**The Beginning**


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